‘The worst is yet to come:’ So wail the doubters glum, But here’s the better view; ‘My best I’ve yet to do.’ The worst some always fear;

No use frettin’ when the rain come… No use grievin’ when the gray clou… No use sighin’ when the wind blows… No use wailin’ when the world’s al… Only thing that a man can do

My religion’s lovin’ God, who mad… Who marks, no matter where it be,… An’ my religion’s servin’ Him the… By not despisin’ anything He made… It’s lovin’ sky an’ earth an’ sun…

‘€˜TIS friendship’s test to guard… Of him you love from all attack, As you are to his face, the same To be when you’re behind his back. Now good old loyal Jimmy Green,

My father is a peaceful man; He tries in every way he can To live a life of gentleness And patience all the while. He says that needless fretting’s v…

‘How much do babies cost?’ said he The other night upon my knee; And then I said: ‘They cost a lot… A lot of watching by a cot, A lot of sleepless hours and care,

To keep in mind from day to day That I’m a soldier in the fray; That I must serve, from sun to su… As well as he who bears a gun The flag that flies above us all,

Some day the world will need a man… And somewhere, as a little boy, th… Within some humble home, no doubt,… Now climbs upon his father’s knee… And when shall come that call for…

Mine is a song of hope For the days that lie before; For the grander things The morrow brings When the struggle days are o’er.

To gentle ways I am inclined; I have no wish to kill. To creatures dumb I would be kind… I like them all, but still Right now I think I’d like to be

Love and laughter lead you Down the pathways of the year, And may each morning feed you From the golden spoon of cheer; May every eye be shining,

When day is done and the night sli… And I’ve turned my back on the bu… And come once more to the welcome… Where the roses nod and the childr… I tell myself as I see them smile

Don’t worry, little girl, Don’t you let one golden curl Get awry. Don’t you ever let appear E’en the symbol of a tear

I will lend you, for a little time… A child of mine, He said. For you to love the while he lives… And mourn for when he’s dead. It may be six or seven years,

Promotion comes to him who sticks Unto his work and never kicks, Who watches neither clock nor sun To tell him when his task is done; Who toils not by a stated chart,