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Which was the true philosopher?—the sage
Who to the sorrows and the crimes of life
Gave tears—or he who laugh'd at all he saw?
Such mockery is bitter, and yet just:
And Heaven well knows the cause there is to weep.
Methinks that life is what the actor is—
Outside there is the quaint and gibing mask;
Beneath, the pale and careworn countenance.
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