SORROW and joy, two sisters coy, Aye for our hearts are fighting: The half our years are teen and tears, And half are mere delighting. So when joy's cup is brimm'd full up, Take no thought o' the morrow: So fine's your bliss, ye shall not miss To have your turn wi' sorrow. And she with ruth will teach you truth, She is man's very med'cin: She'll drive us straight to heav'n's high gate, Ay, she can stuff our heads in. Blush not nor blench with either wench, Make neither brag nor pother: God send you, son, enough of one And not too much o' t'other. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE BOY BLUE by EUGENE FIELD LOVE IS LIKE A DIZZINESS by JAMES HOGG THE FISHER'S BOY by HENRY DAVID THOREAU MOON-BRIGHT DREAMS by WILLIAM EDWARD ADAMS THOREAU by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT NAMELESS PAIN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH POEM, READ THE SOLDIERS' WELCOME, FRANKLIN, NEW YORK, AUG. 5, 1865 by B. H. BARNES |