“One Perpetual Grin” Poem by J. R. Drake

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 goldβ€” He smiles when others sigh, Enjoys alike the hot and cold,
And laughs though wet or dry.
There’s fun in everything we meet,β€” 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.”

Joseph Rodman Drake.

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