"Sonnet 195" where is tomorrow? care to comment and/or critique?

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Sonnet 195

Her touch imbues my heart with so much joy,

And heals the wounds without a graven scar,

My mind, its usual questing wits employ,

Confirms I may have stumbled on my star,

That always, high among the blinking lights,

Which shrouds in mystery the starry skies,

Will hold in thrall a thousand dreamy nights,

Or spy ahead for where tomorrow lies;

But all Todays have sizzled well enough,

Not caring if the morning ever comes,

Or should the going soon becomes too tough,

To every pain and sorrow this heart numbs;

.......For with her touch, to joys would sorrows lead,

.......And wounds to healing right away proceed.

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