"Solitude"
Laugh, and the world laughs with you:
Weep, and you weep alone:
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer:
Sigh, it is lost in the air:
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you:
Grieve, and they run 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 large and lordly train
But one by one we must file on
Through the narrow isles of pain.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919)