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A Character

 How often do I wish I were
What people call a character;
A ripe and cherubic old chappie
Who lives to make his fellows happy;
With in his eyes a merry twinkle,
And round his lips a laughing wrinkle;
Who radiating hope and cheer
Grows kindlier with every year.
For this ideal let me strive, And keep the lad in me alive; Nor argument nor anger know, But my own way serenly go; The woes of men to understand, Yet walk with humour hand in hand; To love each day and wonder why Folks are not so jocund as I.
So be you simple, decent, kind, With gentle heart and quiet mind; And if to righteous anger stung, Restrain your temper and your toungue.
Let thought for others be your guide, And patience triumph over pride .
With charity for those who err, Live life so folks may say you were-- God bless your heart!--A Character.

Poem by Robert William Service
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