Laugh, and the world laughs with
you;
Weep, and you weep
alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble
enough of its own.
Sing, and the
hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
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 need 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 life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you
live,
But no man can 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.
1850-1919