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 the 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.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
(Psalm 139: 1-3. Romans 8:38-39)