Classic Poem

If thou art sorrowful, hide thy face!
Show it not in the market-place:
And dost thou go where men are gay,
Put on a mask & be as they

Harvest it seems of the loads of woe,
But 'tis a Duty that we owe:
In every day that comes & parts,
So are men made to mock their hearts.

Could we discover the inner breast,
Little should we love a jest:
And that is what great life demands
To strengthen her oft-failing hands.

Grief is a mirror wherein men view
Too much of themselves that's true.
And when they search for better cheer,
Those who know them do not sneer.

So if thou'rt sorrowful, hide thy face!
Show it not in the market-place:
And dost thou go where men are gay,
Put on a mask & be as they.