The solemn nature of a true heart
is not the nature of mine.
For what heart is true
than the happiest heart divine.
No, give me mirth and joy and glee,
for these mine heart shouldst love.
Why let sorrow be thy nature,
when we still rest above
on God's green earth
so lush, jubulant, and live.
Why choose the winters cold,
if spring and summer are not far behind?
Then warmth in my morrow shouldst grow,
Winter and Autumn are fleeting things
Just as Summer and Spring too.
So why not take joy in what we have
and linger not in pity's gloom.
Yes, give me a heart of joy and peace,
for these will keep me happy and true
and when winters come, I will laugh
for I know they will be over soon.