When as a dewdrop joy enspheres
This pleasant planet, arched with blue,
When every prospect charms and cheers,
And all the world is fair to view—
Who does not envy (have not you?)
That mortal, by Thalia kissed,
Who plies, in plumes of cockatoo,
The blithesome trade of humorist?
But when the wind of fortune veers,
And blue-white skies turn leaden hue,
When every pleasant prospect blears
And all the weary world's askew—
Who then would envy (if he knew)
Jack Point the jester, glum and trist;
Or ply, tho' first of all the crew,
The dismal trade of humorist?
Ah, jocund trifles writ in tears,
And merry stanzas steeped in rue!
When all the world in drab appears
The fool must still in motley woo.
Tho' bitter be the cud he chew,
Still must he grind his foolish grist;
Still must he ply, the long day through,
The tragic trade of humorist!
L'Envoi
Lady of Tears, what pains perdue
The heart and soul of him may twist
Who doth in cap and bells pursue
The glad sad trade of humorist!