This poem is solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. I like this poem because of its philosophical undertones. Laugh and the world laughs with you, weep and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Seeing and the hills will answer, the light is lost on the air, the echoes bound to a joyful sound but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice and men will seek you, grieve and they turn and go. They won't perform measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad and your friends are many, be sad and you lose them all. They're a nun to decline your nectar, wine, put a loan you must dreamt life's goal. Feast and your halls are crowded, fast and the world goes by, succeed and give and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and laudatory train, but one by one we must all fall on through the narrow aisles of pain.