THERE’S a time to be jolly, a time to repent,
A season for folly, a season for Lent,
The first as the worst we too often regard;
The rest as the best, but our judgment is hard.
There are snows in December and Roses in June,
There’s darkness at midnight and sunshine at noon;
But, were there no sorrow, no storm-cloud or rain,
Who’d care for the morrow with beauty again.
The world is a picture both gloomy and bright,
And grief is the shadow and pleasure the light,
And neither should smother the general tone:
For where were the other if either were gone?
The valley is lovely; the mountain is drear,
Its summit is hidden in mist all the year;
But gaze from the heaven, high over all weather,
And mountain and valley are lovely together.
I have learned to love Lucy, though faded she be;
If my next love be lovely, the better for me.
By the end of next summer, I’ll give you my oath,
It was best, after all, to have flirted with both.
_Charles Godfrey Leland._