"Doing Pretty Well."

There are many that you meet with Who are always full of gloom, And they chew the rag forever 'Bout the darkness of their doom; But as through the world we journey, There's a joy that none may tell When we meet the pleasant people Who are "doing pretty well." There are fellows by the dozens Who are always in the skies, And forever capture fortunes Of the most gigantic size; But we stagger from their presence And their glories that repel, For the quiet-spoken persons Who are "doing pretty well." O, it's neither sun nor shadow All the time from year to year,— And it's neither all of pleasure Or of pain,—the journey here! But whatever clouds may gather Or what sunshine, for a spell Let us keep a steady temper And keep "doing pretty well!"