To-day—to-day—the birds again are singing and rejoicing,
Nature’s great heart, once more, with pleasure thrills;
Mortals—mortals—we to our gladness should be voicing.
Not brooding o’er life’s griefs and ills.
Has not the world had enough of sorrow?
Is not the world yet done with tears?
Joy to-day—if thou wouldst joy to-morrow,
Away with care—away with frets and fears.