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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409009" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When Your Pants Begin to Go</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn't white, <br>And you cannot sleep for thinking how you'll reach to-morrow night, <br>You may be a man of sorrows, and on speaking terms with Care, <br>And as yet be unacquainted with the Demon of Despair; <br>For I rather think that nothing heaps the trouble on your mind <br>Like the knowledge that your trousers badly need a patch behind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have noticed when misfortune strikes the hero of the play, <br>That his clothes are worn and tattered in a most unlikely way; <br>And the gods applaud and cheer him while he whines and loafs around, <br>And they never seem to notice that his pants are mostly sound; <br>But, of course, he cannot help it, for our mirth would mock his care, <br>If the ceiling of his trousers showed the patches of repair. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You are none the less a hero if you elevate your chin <br>When you feel the pavement wearing through the leather, sock, and skin; <br>You are rather more heroic than are ordinary folk <br>If you scorn to fish for pity under cover of a joke; <br>You will face the doubtful glances of the people that you know; <br>But -- of course, you're bound to face them when your pants begin to go. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">If, when flush, you took your pleasures -- failed to make a god of Pelf, <br>Some will say that for your troubles you can only thank yourself -- <br>Some will swear you'll die a beggar, but you only laugh at that, <br>While your garments hand together and you wear a decent hat; <br>You may laugh at their predictions while your soles are wearing low, <br>But -- a man's an awful coward when his pants begin to go. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though the present and the future may be anything but bright, <br>It is best to tell the fellows that you're getting on all right, <br>And a man prefers to say it -- 'tis a manly lie to tell, <br>For the folks may be persuaded that you're doing very well; <br>But it's hard to be a hero, and it's hard to wear a grin, <br>When your most important garment is in places very thin. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Get some sympathy and comfort from the chum who knows you best, <br>That your sorrows won't run over in the presence of the rest; <br>There's a chum that you can go to when you feel inclined to whine, <br>He'll declare your coat is tidy, and he'll say: `Just look at mine!' <br>Though you may be patched all over he will say it doesn't show, <br>And he'll swear it can't be noticed when your pants begin to go. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Brother mine, and of misfortune! times are hard, but do not fret, <br>Keep your courage up and struggle, and we'll laugh at these things yet, <br>Though there is no corn in Egypt, surely Africa has some -- <br>Keep your smile in working order for the better days to come! <br>We shall often laugh together at the hard times that we know, <br>And get measured by the tailor when our pants begin to go. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">...... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the lady of refinement, in the lap of comfort rocked, <br>Chancing on these rugged verses, will pretend that she is shocked. <br>Leave her to her smelling-bottle; 'tis the wealthy who decide <br>That the world should hide its patches 'neath the cruel look of pride; <br>And I think there's something noble, and I swear there's nothing low, <br>In the pride of Human Nature when its pants begin to go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409009" data-title="When Your Pants Begin to Go de Henry Lawson" data-description="When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn't white, 
And you cannot sleep for thinking how you'll reach to-morrow night, 
You may be a man of sorrows, and on speaking terms with Care, 
And as yet be unacquainted with the Demon of Despair; ..."></div>
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