Don't Take Your Troubles To Bed.

    You may labor your fill, friend of mine, if you will;

      You may worry a bit, if you must;

    You may treat your affairs as a series of cares,

      You may live on a scrap and a crust;

    But when the day's done, put it out of your head;

    Don't take your troubles to bed.

    You may batter your way through the thick of the fray,

      You may sweat, you may swear, you may grunt;

    You may be a jack-fool if you must, but this rule

      Should ever be kept at the front:--

    Don't fight with your pillow, but lay down your head

    And kick every worriment out of the bed.

    That friend or that foe (which he is, I don't know),

      Whose name we have spoken as Death,

    Hovers close to your side, while you run or you ride,

      And he envies the warmth of your breath;

    But he turns him away, with a shake of his head,

    When he finds that you don't take your troubles to bed.

Author Unknown