The Cynic

In all this world of loveliness there lies
Some blemish to attract the cynic's eyes;
The rose of June is born of ache and hurt;
The cynic says: "Its roots are in the dirt."

A little child comes racing down the street;
The cynic says: "'Twill grow to be a cheat."
Ground for a hospital a rich man buys;
The cynic jeers: "It pays to advertise."

Honor is doubted, mercy a mistake.
The marriage vow is only made to break;
The cheerful neighbor is a grinning fool,
And only idiots live by law and rule.

Yet youth goes blithely singing on its way,
And men and women brave the heat of day,
Finding life's beauty worth its cost in tears;
And joy exists, despite the cynic's sneers.