My dog lies stretched out on the front;
He groans and shifts a little now and then;
His boredom makes our own dilemma plain:
Strive for more delights and ease of pain?
And in our striving mock ourselves again,
Or dream and joy but in the sun and rain,
While others build a palace of delights
To while away the passing days and nights?

The optimist is wont to say, I'm told,
"Today is silver and tomorrow gold",
And when tomorrow comes and is but dross
He'll smile and make a gain out of his loss.
No matter how by fortune he's neglected,
His fate is always worse than he expected.