Solitude
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 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.
