The Man Who Frets at Worldly Strife
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” exclaims Puck in _A Mid-summer Night’s Dream. _And well might the fairy marvel who sees folk vexing themselves over matters that nine times out of ten come to nothing. Much wiser is the man who smiles at misfortunes, even when they are real ones and affect him personally. Charles Lamb once cheerfully helped to hiss off the stage a play he himself had written.
The man who frets at worldly strife
Grows sallow, sour, and thin;
Give us the lad whose happy life
Is one perpetual grin:
He, Midas-like, turns all to gold—
He smiles when others sigh,
Enjoys alike the hot and cold,
And laughs though wet or dry.
There’s fun in everything we meet,—
The greatest, worst, and best;
Existence is a merry treat,
And every speech a jest:
So, come what may, the man’s in luck
Who turns it all to glee,
And laughing, cries, with honest Puck,
“Good Lord! what fools ye be.”