Classic Poem

I wear a cloak of laughter
— Lest anyone should see
My dress of sorrow underneath
— And stop to pity me.

I wear a cloak of laughter
— Lest anyone should guess
That what is hid beneath it
— Is less than happiness. . . .

But, ah, what does it matter
— To you who are so wise?
My cloak falls tattered at my feet
— Before your tender eyes.

For cloaks to cover sorrow
— Are meant for stranger folk;
One cannot hide away from friends
— Beneath a laughing cloak.

Oh, futile cloak of laughter,
— How frail you are and thin!
Love looks through you so easily
— And sees the grief within.

I wear a cloak of laughter
— Lest anyone should see
My dress of sorrow underneath
— And stop to pity me.

I wear a cloak of laughter
— Lest anyone should guess
That what is hid beneath it
— Is less than happiness. . . .

But, ah, what does it matter
— To you who are so wise?
My cloak falls tattered at my feet
— Before your tender eyes.

For cloaks to cover sorrow
— Are meant for stranger folk;
One cannot hide away from friends
— Beneath a laughing cloak.

Oh, futile cloak of laughter,
— How frail you are and thin!
Love looks through you so easily
— And sees the grief within.