Laugh, and the world laughs with you ;
Weep, and you weep alone ;
For the sad old earth
Must borrow it's mirth,
It has trouble enough of it's own.
Sing, and the hills will answer ;
Sigh, it is lost on the air ;
To the echoes bound
To a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you ;
Grieve, and they turn and go ;
They want full measure
Of all your pleasure,
But they do not want your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many ;
Be sad, and you lose them all ;
There are none to decline
Your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink lifes gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded ;
Fast, and the world goes by ;
Succeed and give,
And it helps you live,
But it cannot help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train ;
But one by one
We must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Akron Beacon Journal 17 Feb. 1906: 7.
Courtesy of John M. Freiermuth.
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