Ensomhet

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