Friday, December 20, 2013

Solitude By Ella Wheeler Wilsox


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,
Fast, and the world goes by.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they don't need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many,
Be sad, and you lose them all-
There are none to decline your nectarine 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 shall help you die.
For there is room in the halls of pleasure
for a large and lordly train.
But one by one we must all file on
through the narrow aisles of pain.