Laugh, and the world laughs with you:
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth Must borrow its mirth, It 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 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 life's 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.