Aaaand, here's Awrthyr!!
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By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its 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 many can help you die.
There is no room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lonely train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow isles of pain.
1 comment:
Okay, I know that asking this boarders on insulting, but you've got a wireless. You DID check the batteries, right?
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