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.
   Dark be the clouds to-day,
       Bitter the winds that blow,
     But falter nor fail,
     Through the howling gale–
       Comes peace in the afterglow.
 
   Mine is the song of hope,
       A song for the mother here,
     Who lulls to rest
     The babe at breast,
       And hopes for a brighter year.
   Hope is the song she sings,
       Hope is the prayer she prays;
     As she rocks her boy,
     She dreams of the joy
       He’ll bring in the future days.
 
   Mine is the song of hope,
       A song for the father, too,
     Whose right arm swings,
     While his anvil sings
       A song of the journey through.
   Hope is the star that guides,
       Hope is the father’s sun;
     Far ahead he sees,
     Through the waving trees,
       Sweet peace when his work is done.
 
   Mine is the song of hope,
       Of hope that sustains us all;
     Be we young or old,
     Be we weak or bold,
       Do we falter or even fall,
   Brightly the star of hope
       From the distance is shining still;
     And with courage new
     We rise to do,
       For hope is the God of Will.

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