Catullus

Do not ask, you cannot know what the gods will give to me, to you, Leuconoe.
Don't look up the numbers in those Babylonian horoscopes either.
How much better it is (whatever will come) to accept what is,
whether Jupiter allots us many more winters or a final one,
now breaking down opposing pumice cliffs with the force of Tuscan seas.
Wise up! Strain the wine, trim back spacious hopes to the short term
Even now, while we talk, jealous time is flying past:
seize today, don't put much credit in tomorrow.

Catullus: 5 - Horace: Odes I (11)