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.