Advice"I must do as you do? Your way I owns a very good way, and still, There are sometimes two straight roads to a town, One over, one under the hill. You are treading the safe and the well-worn way, That the prudent choose each time;And you think me reckless and rash to-day Because I prefer to climb. Your path is the right one, and so is mine. We are not like peas in a pod, Compelled to lie in a certain line, Or else be scattered abroad.' T were a dull old world, methinks, my friend, If we all just went one way;Yet our paths will meet no doubt at the end, Though they lead apart today. You like the shade, and I like the sun;You like an even pace, I like to mix with the crowd and run, And then rest after the race. I like danger, and storm, and strife, You like a peaceful time;I like the passion and surge of life, You like its gentle rhyme. You like buttercups, dewy sweet, And crocuses, framed in snow;I like roses, born of the heat, And the red carnation's glow. I must live my life, not yours, my friend, For so it was written down;We must follow our given paths to the end, But I trust we shall meet--in town.