Bliss and Sorrow

Here with a loaf of bread A jog of water to ease my frayed nerve A Holy Book in its verves And birds beside me singing in the wilderness For the busy bee has no time for sorrow And man is never so happy, as we think It is pretty hard to tell what brings happiness For power and wealth have both failed I have wanted only one thing to keep me happy And wanting that has wanted everything I ask myself whether I am truly happy That moment happiness ceases to exist No man is happy but by comparison In sorrow all is cheerless, dark and deadly But one would suffer a great deal to be happy Believe me; every man has his secret sorrows Into each life some rain must drop Some days must be dark and dreary That instant, happiness produces no effect Means nothing, becomes a variable relativity A pursuit of happiness is hell on earth The world is fun and comedy if you so think A gravious futility and ostentatious vanity fair Bliss and sorrow her eternal and regular guest