If you would rise above the throng And seek the crown of fame, You must do more than drift along And merely play the game. Whatever path your feet may tread,

We do not build our monuments in stone, The records of our life aren’t cast in s… We are forgot, if when the spirit’s flow… No human hearts our finger prints reveal… If we have lived and died and left behin…

Lord let me not in service lag. Let me be worthy of our flag. Let me remember when I’m tired, The sons heroic who have died. In freedom’s name and in my way,

This much I know: God does not wrong us here, Though oft His judgments seem severe And reason falters 'neath the blow, Some day we’ll learn ’twas better so.

I’d like to be the sort of friend that y… been to me; I’d like to be the help that you’ve been… glad to be; I’d like to mean as much to you each min…

‘Some day,’ says Ma, 'I’m goin’ to get A party dress all trimmed with jet, An’ hire a seamstress in, an’ she Is goin’ to fit it right on me; An’ then, when I’m invited out

She said she was sorry the weather was b… The night that she asked us to dine; And she really appeared inexpressibly sa… Because she had hoped 'twould be fine. She was sorry to hear that my wife had a…

Here’s to you, little mother, With your boy so far away; May the joy of service smother All your grief this Christmas day; May the magic of his splendor

I LIKE the homes where a Teddy Bear Monopolizes the best arm chair, Where the sofa a rag doll occupies And a train of cars in the corner lies; For those are the signs that the home is…

His room is as it used to be Before he went away, The walls still keep the pennants he Brought home but yesterday. The picture of his baseball team

The boys upon the honor roll, God bless… God watch them when they sleep at night,… We’ve stamped their names upon our walls… Our brave boys and our splendid boys who… Oh, here are sons of mothers fair and fa…

I sink my piers to the solid rock, And I send my steel to the sky, And I pile up the granite, block by blo… Full twenty stories high; Nor wind nor weather shall wash away

Last night he said the dead were dead And scoffed my faith to scorn; I found him at a tulip bed When I passed by at morn. ‘O ho!’ said I, ‘the frost is near

Troubles? Sure I’ve lots of them, Got ‘em heaped up by the score, Got ’em baled and bundled up, Got ‘em hid behind the door. Got ’em young and got ‘em old,