To-day, whatever may annoy,
The word for me is Joy, just simple Joy.
Whate'er there be of Sorrow
I'll put off till To-morrow,
And when To-morrow comes, why then
'T will be To-day and Joy again.
For me, my craft is sailing on,
Through mists to-day, clear seas anon.
Whate'er the final harbor be
'T is good to sail upon the sea!
The first mistake of Art is to assume that it's serious.
Pandemonium did not reign; it poured.
Pandemonium did not reign; it poured.