Not somewhere in America, but eve… Where snow-crowned mountains hold… the vales where children play, Beside the bench and whirring lath… lake and stream

Life is a jest; Take the delight of it. Laughter is best; Sing through the night of it. Swiftly the tear

There’s a little chap at our house… Keeps the front lawn looking tidy… Doesn’t leave his little wagon, wh… On the sidewalk as he used to; now… When we call him in to supper, we…

We were speakin’ of excitement, an… That sorter dot life’s landscape,… An’ one feller spoke of bein’ in a… An’ another one of skatin’ on some… Then a meek-faced little brother i…

IT’S ALL in the way that you lo… It’s all in the way that you do th… With laughter or sorrow your lips… But it’s all in the way that you v… Yes, it’s all in the way that you…

rose unto the bights of fame And with the great men stood, He heard the people cheer his name And speak of him as good. Success at last he had attained

The dreams of youth are fairest, The dreams of youth are rarest; The dreams of youth are brighter Than the dreams we’ll know again. Hope is the fairy weaver

IF every day of yours were fine And every sky of yours were blue, You couldn’t know such joy of mine… The joy o’ being friend to you. You’ve brushed away the clouds of…

These joys are free to all who liv… The rich and poor, the great and l… The charms which kindness has to g… The smiles which friendship may be… The honor of a well-spent life,

I REMEMBER the day that you c… Little Marie, The nurse brought you out so that… see Little Marie.

This I think as I go my way: What can matter the words I say, And what can matter the false or t… Of any deed I am moved to do? This I think as I go along:

Let every day be Mother’s Day! Make roses grow along her way And beauty everywhere. Oh, never let her eyes be wet With tears of sorrow or regret,

Oh, we have friends in England, a… And should we have to travel there… Undaunted we should sail away, and… Because awaiting us would be someb… Full many a journey here we make w…

I am eager once more to feel easy, I’m weary of thinking of dress; I’m heartily sick of stiff collars… And trousers the tailor must press… I’m eagerly waiting the glad days—