There's many a trouble
Would break like a bubble,
And into the waters of Lethe depart,
Did we not rehearse it,
And tenderly nurse it,
And give it a permanent place in the heart.
There's many a sorrow
Would vanish to-morrow
Were we but willing to furnish the wings;
So sadly intruding,
And quietly brooding,
It hatches out all sorts of horrible things.
How welcome the seeming
Of looks that are beaming
Whether one's wealthy or whether one's poor;
Eyes bright as a berry,
Cheeks red as a cherry,
The groan and the curse and the heartache can cure.
Resolve to be merry,
All worry to ferry
Across the famed waters which bid us forget,
And no longer fearful,
But happy and cheerful,
We feel life has much that's worth living for yet.