Stay while ye will, or go, And leave no scent behind ye: Yet trust me, I shall know The place where I may find ye.
Within my Lucia's cheek, (Whose livery ye wear) Play ye at hide or seek, I'm sure to find ye there.
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
• Ella Wheeler Wilcox