My land is where the kind folks ar… And where the friends are true, Where comrades brave will travel f… Some kindly deed to do. My land is where the smiles are br…

BEFORE you came, my little lad, I used to think that I was good, Some vicious habits, too, I had, But wouldn’t change them if I cou… I held my head up high and said:

Queerest little chap he is, Always saying: ‘Aw Gee Whiz!’ Needing something from the store That you’ve got to send him for And you call him from his play,

Home was never home before, Till the baby came. Love no golden jewels wore, Till the baby came. There was joy, but now it seems

It’s guessing time at our house; e… We start guessing what old Santa’… Everyone of us holds secrets that… And that eyes and lips are plainly… And a little lip that quivered jus…

This I heard the Old Flag say As I passed it yesterday: ‘Months ago your friendly hands Fastened me on slender strands And with patriotic love

To us the Flag has little meant. Each glorious stripe of red Was woven there to represent The blood of heroes dead. On some dim, distant battle line

WHAT of the glories after death, When this frail form gives up its… Why do we strive to understand The Future when the Now’s at hand… What matters it to you and me

Some fellers’ pas seem awful old, An’ talk like they was going to sc… An’ their hair’s all gone, an’ the… Or holler an’ shout when they come… They don’t get out in the street 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

When you’re up against a trouble, Meet it squarely, face to face; Lift your chin and set your should… Plant your feet and take a brace. When it’s vain to try to dodge it,

OTHERS may laugh at my feeble e… To capture life’s prizes, and othe… The whole world may loudly declare… Be worthy the gunpowder to blow me… It may be I ‘m punk as a parlor r…

The little church of Long Ago, wh… With mother in the family pew and… How I would like to see it now th… The straight-backed pews, the pulp… Dressed stiffly. in their Sunday…

H’it’s h’easy to be 'appy, Don’t you know; There’s no sense in being snappy, Don’t you know; Wot’s the use h’of being grumpy,

Nobody hates me more than I; No enemy have I to-day That I so bravely must defy; There are no foes along my way, However bitter they may be,