The roads of happiness are not The selfish roads of pleasure seeking, Where cheeks are flushed with haste and hot And none has time for kindly speaking. But they're the roads where lovers stray, Where wives and husbands walk together And children romp along the way Whenever it is pleasant weather. The roads of happiness are trod By simple folks and tender-hearted, By gentle folks that worship God And want to live their days unparted. There kindly people stop and talk, Regardless of the chase for money, There, arm in arm, the grown-ups walk And every eye you see is sunny. The roads of happiness are lined, Not with the friends of royal splendor, But with the loyal friends and kind That do the gentle deeds and tender. There fame has never brought unrest Nor glory set men's hearts to aching; There unabandoned is life's best For selfish love and money making. The roads of happiness are those That do not lead to pomp and glory But wind among the joys and woes That make the humble toiler's story. The roads that oft we used to tread In early days when first we mated, When hearts were light and cheeks were red, And days were not with burdens freighted.
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