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Jay Olson

Solitude

  • 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