Part 7

Age is glad to put away All the burdens of the day, Glad to lay the worries down, Quit the noises of the town, And in slumber end the care That has met them here and there. But the children do not know Life is freighted down with woe; They would run until they drop, Hoping day would never stop, Calling back when it has fled: "I don't want to go to bed."

_Morning Brigands_

There may be happier times than this, But if there are I've never known them, When youngsters jump in bed to kiss And wake the pa's and ma's who own them. What if the sun be up or not, Another perfect day is dawning, And is it not a happy lot With such delight to greet the morning?

Sometimes I hear them quit their bed And catch their bare-foot pitter-patter, And other times they're at my head Before I know what is the matter. Brigands to rob us of our sleep They come--their weapons love and laughter, And though we're locked in slumber deep, They always get the joy they're after.

Some days there are when we would lie And dream our dreams a little longer, Then "back to bed awhile," we cry-- But oh, our love for them is stronger, Yes, stronger than our wish to sleep And so we countermand the order And let that pair of brigands leap With wild delight across love's border.

There may be happier times than this, But if there are I've never known them, When youngsters jump in bed to kiss And wake the pa's and ma's who own them. They miss a lot, the man and wife Who never feel those glad hands shake them, Who rise by day to toil and strife, But have no little tots to wake them.

_Grief's Only Master_

Into the lives of all The tears of sorrow fall. Into the happiest hearts Grief drives her darts; No door however stout Can shut Death's angel out.

Vain are the things we prize, Treasure and pomp's disguise; They cannot stay the tear When the true griefs appear. Where Death will strike to-day Gold cannot bar the way.

There is no joy secure, No peace that shall endure, No smile that man shall keep. God wills that he must weep, And in his darkest hour Vain is all earthly power.

What, then, should guard the gate? How shall a man be great? Through the dark days and long, What power shall make him strong? Wherein does courage lie, Since all he loves must die?

When sorrow binds his hands, Helpless the strong man stands. One master only grief Bows to, and that's belief-- Faith that he'll some day know Why God hath willed it so!

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

A fairy and a robin met A lilac bush is a lovely thing A little braver when the skies are gray Always seeing the funny side A possible man of affairs Apples ripe for eating, and the grate fire blazing high A yellow crocus bloomed to-day

Behind full many a gift there lies Bill and I went fishing Bill and Jim drove into town Bill is a mushroom expert

Day after day the clock in the tower Dishes to wash and clothes to mend Down the lanes of August Dresses high and dresses low

From newsboy to the millionaire

Giuseppe Tomassi ees stylisha chap Give me a book and my cozy chair

He'd been delivering a load of coal He must come back a better man Here is where the blows are struck "Here's how I figure it out," says he High chair days are best of all His eye was wild and his face was taut How many times we've said good night

I am not much at the game I cherish the picture of a man I'd like to have them think of me I'd rather fancied it would come I envy him his care-free way If it's worth while, then it's worth a few blows If I were a boss I would like to say If I were sending my boy afar I have to wash myself at night I'll tell you it's a problem, when a youngster's nine I met him in a college town I mustn't forget that I'm getting old-- Into the lives of all I stood upon the coping of the tallest building. It happened that I came along as school was letting out "It is all for the best," so they said It seemed an unimportant task It's Oh, my little laddie, as you're romping It's wanting keeps us young and fit It was a little yellow dog It wasn't too much work for her in the days of long ago It was thick with Prussian troopers I used to want a lovely lawn I've eaten chicken a la king "I will gather some flowers for our friend" I would not, if I could, recall some customs

Jimmie McBride was a common sense lad Last night the baby cried

Let others sing in modern ways, it's joy enough for me Let's be brave when the laughter dies Living with the people, the good, the brave, the strong

My father says that I ought to be a man My son, beware of "good enough"

Nellie made a cup of tea

October and the crimsoned trees Our friends have automobiles now Over the crib where the baby lies

Pa never gets a story straight Peter's the fellow I go to whenever Paul presses his claim

She wasn't hungry, so she said Since Pa put in the radio Sit here on my knee, little girl, and I'll tell a story Some folks pray for a boy Stick to it, boy

Take a boy along with you Taking medicine to-day isn't what it used to be Teach the children of the Flag Tender, gentle, brave and true The hills are in the mist to-day The houses of the rich folks are very fine to see The little clothes line by the kitchen door The ordinary fellow does an ordinary task The other night 'bout two o'clock The postman whistled down the street There is a reason, I suppose, for every thing. There is a song in every thing There isn't any pay for you, you serve without reward There is one critic a man should heed There is so much that we can do There may be happier times than this There's a smile on the face of the mother to-day There's never frost nor blight nor weeds The road lay straight before him but the by-paths smiled at him The time I played with Vardon The white oak keeps its leaves till spring They found the great stone rolled away They laughed when I came home last night They put his spotless surplice on They're waiting for us over there This is the tale of a mortgage and a dead man To-day, if I were free, I think I'd wander

Used to think I'd like to go

We found the car beneath a tree We nodded as we passed each day We've had a lot of visitors, it seems When all is said and done When I get home at night they run to meet me When I was but a little lad, my father carved When melancholy rides the sky When Pa came home last night When the blue gets back in the skies once more When there's company for tea Where is the road to Arcady Who's dat knockin' at de do' Wife o' Mine, day after day Winters are not what they used to be World wide over this is said

You know your mother--that's plain as day You shall wonder as you meet You would take my girl away