THE PESSIMIST.
Nothing to do but work, nothing to eat but food, Nothing to wear but clothes to keep one from being nude. Nothing to breathe but air, quick as a flash 'tis gone; Nowhere to fall but off, nowhere to stand but on. Nothing to comb but hair, nowhere to sleep but in bed, Nothing to weep but tears, nothing to bury but dead. Nothing to eing but songs. Ah, well, alas! alack! Nowhere to go but out, nowhere to come but back. « Nothing to see but sights, nothing to quench but thirst, Nothing to have but what we've got; thus through life we are cursed. Nothing to strike but a gait; everything | moves that goes, 1 Nothing at all but common sense can ever withstand these woes.
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Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 209, 3 September 1932, Page 6 (Supplement)
Word Count
129THE PESSIMIST. Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 209, 3 September 1932, Page 6 (Supplement)
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Acknowledgements
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