people sail the sea of life
Like little ships awash with strife,
Like vessels stricken with despair,
In spite of weather foul or fair,
While flying frowns like flags of gloom,
As if their course was set for doom.
And quite a few—including me—
Who sail upon life's fickle sea,
Have temperaments dependent on
How well our ventures may have gone:
We frown when lashed by failure’s gale;
We smile when fortune’s winds prevail.
But then there are those precious few
Among us who, with buoyant view,
Meet every wind with jaunty air,
With ready wit and humor rare
To leave folks smiling in their wake,
For nothing more than goodwill’s sake.