Life is a burden to everyone’s shoulder
None may escape from its troubles and care;
Miss it in youth and it will come when we ‘re older,
And fit us as close as the garments we wear.
Sorrow comes into our home uninvited,
Robbing our heart of its treasures of song;
Lovers grow cold and our friendships are slighted,
Yet somehow or the other we saunter along.
We must not hope to be mowers,
And to gather the ripe, golden ears,
Unless we have first been sowers,
And watered the flowers with tears.
It is not just as we take it,
This wonderful world of ours
Life’s field will yield as we make it
A harvest of thorns or of flowers.
Pluck the rose while blooming;
Just after they’re fresh and bright;
Wait not till tomorrow;
Because time is always swift in flight.
Do thy deeds of kindness
Ere tomorrow’s light;
What may come, we know not;
Because and I repeat; time is always swift in flight.
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