ITS THE BEST OLD WORLD WE KNOW.

ITS THE BEST OLD WORLD WE KNOW.
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It’s a pretty good world to live in,
Not perfect, of course, but then
A sort of a place too full of grace
Would weary most common men.
The world as a whole is a pleasure,.
Despite all its grief and woe.
But pleasant or not this world’s our lot,
And the only world we know.

We may have a right to grumble,
We may have the need to kick.
But if fate should say, “Will you leave or stay?”
You bet your sweet life we’d stick!
Stick in spite of our troubles
And think we were lucky so,
For wicked and chill as the world is, still
It’s the best old world we know.

A world where the cynie’s wisdom
Is, on the whole, dead wrong:
Where friends are square as a rule, and where
The fetters of love are strong.
A world where the flowers ar bloom- ing
When they’re not beneath the snow.
And we laugh or weep to this moral deep,
“It’s the best old world we know.”

The clouds don’t last forever,
Sometimes the sun comes out,
And we sizzle and fret and long to get
Those clouds that were put to rout.
In winter we long for summer,
In summer for “10 below,”
But we all admit, when pressed to it.
“It’s the best old world we know.”

There may be better planets
To which when we die we ride,
But I think it’s plain when we re- main
We’d better be satisfied.
It’s a world of shreds and patches,
It’s merely a “passing show,”
It’s a funny game, but just the same
It’s the best old world we know,
-Berton Braley,,