Classic Poem

The world is sweet, and fair, and bright,
And joy aboundeth everywhere,
The glorious stars crown every night,
And thro' the dark of ev'ry care
Above us shineth heaven's light.

If from the cradle to the grave
We reckon all our days and hours
We sure will find they give and gave
Much less of thorns and more of flowers;
And tho' some tears must ever lave.

The path we tread, upon them all
The light of smiles forever lies,
As o'er the rains, from clouds that fall,
The sun shines sweeter in the skies.
Life holdeth more of sweet than gall.

For ev'ry one: no matter who —
Or what their lot — or high or low;
All hearts have clouds — but heaven's blue
Wraps robes of bright around each woe;
And this is truest of the true:

That joy is stronger here than grief,
Fills more of life, far more of years,
And makes the reign of sorrow brief;
Gives more of smiles for less of tears.
Joy is life's tree — grief but its leaf.