The job will not make you, my boy; The job will not bring you to fame Or riches or honor or joy Or add any weight to your name. You may fail or succeed where you…

Because I am his father, they Expect me to put grief away; Because I am a man, and rough And sometimes short of speech and… The women folks at home believe

If this were all of life we’ll kno… If this brief space of breath Were all there is to human toil, If death were really death, And never should the soul arise

There’s no lock upon your door, And the polish that you wore In the years ago when you were bri… Now has lost its splendid shine, And your driver’s bending spine

This year,' said Pa, on New Year… I’m sick and tired of ending years… I’m sick and tired of spending coi… This year we’re going to save some… Ma didn’t say a word right then, a…

fight worth while on this good old… Isn’t the fight for a hoard of gol… It isn’t the fight to increase you… In stocks and bonds and things to… It isn’t the fight for a higher pl…

I WONDER what the trees will sa… The trees that used to share his p… An’ knew him as the little lad Who used to wander with his dad. They’ve watched him grow from year…

There never was a family without i… With legs a little longer than the… An’ a shock of hair that brush an’… An’ hands that somehow never seem… The one with freckled features and…

The saddest sort of death to die Would be to quit the game called l… And know, beneath the gentle sky, You’d lived a slacker in the strif… That nothing men on earth would fi…

I HEARD an old man say today: ‘A young man gives me orders now,’ A beardless youth gets better pay And tells me what to do and how; While I have toiled for forty yea…

TWe used to think her frivolous—y… parents are, A little quick to see the faults a… that mar The girl their son is fond of and…

The dead friends live and always w… Their presence hovers round us sti… It seems to me they come to share Each joy or sorrow that we bear. Among the living I can feel

Old-fashioned flowers! I love the… The morning-glories on the wall, The pansies in their patch of shad… The violets, stolen from a glade, The bleeding hearts and columbine,

Isn’t it fine when the day is done… And the petty battles are lost or… When the gold is made and the ink… To quit the struggle and turn asid… To spend an hour with your boy in…

I’m up against it day by day, My ignorance is distressing; The things I don’t know on the wa… I’m busily confessing. Time was I used to think I knew