Template: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 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;

For 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 isles of pain.