Oh, Mirth And Innocence! Oh,

There Is A Tear For All Who Die, A Mourner O'er The Humblest Grave.

There's Not A Sea The Passenger E'er Pukes In, Turns Up More Dangerous Breakers Than The Euxine.

Ah, Happy Years! Once More Who Would Not Be A Boy?

Oh Who Can Tell, Save He Whose Heart Hath Tried.

...and These Vicissitudes Come Best In Youth; For When They Happen At A Riper Age, People Are Apt To Blame The Fates, Forsooth, And Wonder Providence Is Not More Sage. Adversity Is The First Path To Truth: He Who Hath Proved War, Storm, Or Woman's Rage, Whether His Winters Be Eighteen Or Eighty, Has Won Experience Which Is Deem'd So Weighty.