Who seems to miss the thorns we find? The other fellow. Who seems to leave us all behind? The other fellow. Who never seems to feel the woe, The anguish and the pain we know? Who gets the best seats at the show? The other fellow. And yet, my friend, who envies you? The other fellow. Who thinks he gathers only rue? The other fellow. Who sighs because he thinks that he Would infinitely happier he, If he could be like you or me? The other fellow. The Open Fire There in the flame of the open grate, All that is good in the past I see: Red-lipped youth on the swinging gate, Bright-eyed youth with its minstrelsy; Girls and boys that I used to know, Back in the days of Long Ago, Troop before in the smoke and flame, Chatter and sing, as the wild birds do. Everyone I can call by name, For the fire builds all of my youth anew. Outside, people go stamping by, Squeak of wheel on the evening air, Stars and planets race through the sky, Here are darkness and silence rare; Only the flames in the open grate Crackle and flare as they burn up hate, Malice and envy and greed for gold, Dancing, laughing my cares away; I've forgotten that I am old, Once again I'm a boy at play. There in the flame of the open grate Bright the pictures come and go; Lovers swing on the garden gate, Lovers kiss 'neath the mistletoe. I've forgotten that I am old, I've forgotten my story's told; Whistling boy down the lane I stroll, All untouched by the blows of fate, Time turns back and I'm young of soul, Dreaming there by the open grate. Improvement The joy of life is living it, or so it seems to me; In finding shackles on your wrists, then struggling till you're free; In seeing wrongs and righting them, in dreaming splendid dreams, Then toiling till the vision is as real as moving streams. The happiest mortal on the earth is he who ends his day By leaving better than he found to bloom along the way. Were all things perfect here there would be naught for man to do; If what is old were good enough we'd never need the new. The only happy time of rest is that which follows strife And sees some contribution made unto the joy of life. And he who has oppression felt and conquered it is he Who really knows the happiness and peace of being free.