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 HIS world is all too sad for tears, I would not weep, not I, But smile along my life's short road, Until I, smiling, die. The little flowers breathe sweetness out Through all the dewy night ; Should I more churlish be than they, And 'plain for constant light ? Not so, not so, no load of woe Need bring despairing frown ; For while we bear it, we can bear, Past that, we lay it down.