fredag 12. januar 2018


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.

                                                    - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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