 Solitude. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for LibbyVox.org by Al G. Pug. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echo is bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for LibbyVox.org by Bruce G. Chuck. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for LibreVox.org by Bernd Ungerer. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost in the air. Yeckos bound to a joyful sound, but drink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grief, and they turn and go. They wantful measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live. But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for Libervox.org by Chris Pyle. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The Yeckos bound to a joyful sound, but drink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Thank you for listening. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for Libervox.org by Garth Burton. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox Read for LibreVox.org by Greg Giordano Newport Ritchie, Florida Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live. But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure, for a large and lordly train. But one by one we must all file on, through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed in give, and it helps you live. But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure, for a large and lordly train. But one by one we must all file on, through the narrow aisles of pain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live. But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure, for a large and lordly train. But one by one we must all file on, through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for Librevox.org by Euleneed Amaya. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough on its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Si, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Re-choice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's call. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live. But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure, for a large and lordly drain. But one by one we must all file on, through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for LibriVox.org by Jeannie Whitfield. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Si, and it's lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they will turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's call. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Si, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's call. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for LibriVox.org by Bean420. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone, for the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Si, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grief, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's skull. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Read for LibreVox.org by Leonard Wilson of Springfield, Ohio. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone, for the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Sigh, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing in care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grief, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gull. Feast, and your halls are crowded, fast, and the world goes by. Succeed, and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Rilla Wilcox. Read for them a box.org by Little T. That, and the wool blasts with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but sink from voicing care. We joist, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared rind, but alone you must drink life's cow. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you, Lil. But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and morty train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure, but they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live. But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and morty train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Solitude by Ella Wheeler-Welcox. Read for Librevox.org by Roslyn Carlyle. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone. For this sad old earth must borrow its mirth, but has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer. Psy, it is lost on the air. They echoes bound to a joyful sound, but shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you. Grieve, and they turn and go. They want full measure of all your pleasure. They want full measure of all your pleasure. But they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many. Be sad, and you lose them all. There are none to decline your nectared wine, but alone you must drink life's gal. Feast, and your halls are crowded. Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, but no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain. End of poem this recording is in the public domain.