Solitude --Ella Wheeler Wilcox

　　

 

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.