'Our sufferings we reckon o'er
With skill minute and formal;
The cheerful ease that fills the score
We treat as merely normal.
Our list of ills, how full, how great!
We mourn our lot should fall so;
I wonder, do we calculate
Our happinesses also?
'Were it not best to keep account
Of all days, if of any?
Perhaps the dark ones might amount
To not so very many.
Men's looks are nigh as often gay
As sad, or even solemn:
Behold, my entry for to-day
Is in the "happy" column.'