There is no cause for happiness,
only misery wants reason,
yet happiness has prompts innumerable
while misery is mute;
yet when we know the cause of our distress
it has its limit with its season,
only enduring malady is unable
to give account that is not moot;
while joy can sing and raise and bless
and skip come rain, come cloud, come sun,
so that it blossoms still more able
to carry on its fair pursuit.
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