Classic Poem

The touch of mirth still cherish, as is best,
Laughter, with lips slow-spreading to a smile;
What were this world without the quip and wile
The cap and bells, the old time-honored jest?
Welcome the coming, speed the departing guest;
And still with merriment the way beguile.
A little joy shall last the longest while,
Be gay, look up, be merry with the rest.

For mark the limpid quibbles of the streams,
The joyousness that sunshine scatters far,
The crooning exultation of the sea!
Better be glad with careless John-a-Dreams
Than linger where the sober sages are
And lose the wiser sense of jollity.