'Tis a wicked world we live in;
Wrong in reason, wrong in rhyme;
But no matter: we'll not give in
While we still can come to time.
Strength's a shadow; Hope is madness;
Love, delusion; Friendship, sham;
Pleasure fades away to sadness,
None of these are worth a d---n.
There is naught on earth to please us;
All things at the crisis fail.
Friends desert us, bailiffs tease us--
(To such foes we give leg-bail).
But a stout heart still maintaining,
Quells the ills we all must meet,
And a spirit fear disdaining
Lays our troubles at our feet.
So we'll ne'er surrender tamely
To the ills that throng us fast.
If we must die, let's die gamely;
Luck may take a turn at last.
Adam Lindsay Gordon