BROTHER fools from everywhere, Let us gather and grow wise. Ours the day, so let us dare Show the world our sober guise. We must mum it through the year, Hide behind the painted grin; Let us be more human here, Men of memories, men of sin. Life's no jest, we know it well; Care lurks close behind the scene. Heaven's not half so sure as hell For a clown whose purse is lean. Ours to make the simple laugh, Ours to give the sad surcease; This our only epitaph: "Here the jester is at peace." God above! We merry men Smile and caper up and down, Sing our foolish catches, when Death looks sweet to many a clown. We are fain to weep and love, Pray, and think of mighty things; Turn our dreamy gaze above, Mount to visions, float on wings. Twenty raptures may go by Just outside the big white tent; We would taste them ere we die, Since for this our life was lent. We must pace the little ring; Yet Life has her golden goals For us all, to that we cling; Clowns are we, -- but living souls! Lads in motley, brothers dear, Gather now and hark to me: April Fools, our day, is here; Let us use it soberly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLEFIELD by EMILY DICKINSON THE LOST SHEEP by SARAH PRATT MCCLAIN GREENE TO AGE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE GREEK AT CONSTANTINOPLE by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS: PART 3: 34. MUTABILITY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH JIM'S WHISTLE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |