How often do I wish I were What people call a character; A ripe and cherubic old chappie Who lives to make his fellows happy; With in his eyes a merry twinkle, And round his lips a laughing wrinkle; Who radiating hope and cheer Grows kindlier with every year. For this ideal let me strive, And keep the lad in me alive; Nor argument nor anger know, But my own way serenly go; The woes of men to understand, Yet walk with humour hand in hand; To love each day and wonder why Folks are not so jocund as I. So be you simple, decent, kind, With gentle heart and quiet mind; And if to righteous anger stung, Restrain your temper and your toungue. Let thought for others be your guide, And patience triumph over pride... With charity for those who err, Live life so folks may say you were-- God bless your heart!--A Character.
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