Here she walked and romped about, And here beneath this apple tree Where all the grass is trampled ou… The swing she loved so used to be. This path is but a path to you,

The roads of happiness are not The selfish roads of pleasure seek… Where cheeks are flushed with hast… And none has time for kindly speak… But they’re the roads where lovers…

Rough be the road and long, Steep be the hills ahead, Grant that my faith be strong, Fearlessly let me tread. After the day’s hard test

I DON’T believe in worry, and it… And dreading what may happen never… I believe in facing trouble, witho… But it’s altogether different when… Oh, it’s altogether different when…

I’m sorry for a fellow if he canno… In a grate fire’s friendly flaming… If in quiet contemplation of a che… He sees nothing there recalling al… Then his mind is dead to fancy and…

I do not ask a store of wealth, Nor special gift of power; I hope always for strength and hea… To brave each troubled hour. But life would be distinctly good,

“When shall I be a man?” he said, As I was putting him to bed. “How many years will have to be Before Time makes a man of me? And will I be a man when I

A warship and a woman’s hat Are just alike, I state, They 're big and ugly, cost a heap… And soon get out date.

The patter of rain on the roof, The glint of the sun on the rose; Of life, these the warp and the wo… The weaving that everyone knows. Now grief with its consequent tear…

There in the flame of the open gra… All that is good in the past I se… Red-lipped youth on the swinging g… Bright-eyed youth with its minstre… Girls and boys that I used to kno…

The star upon their service flag h… It speaks no more of hope and life… But splendidly it glistens now for… And softly whispers: ‘Here lived… ’Here once he walked and played an…

The sumac’s flaming scarlet on the… An’ the pear trees are invitin’ ev… Now the gorgeous tints of autumn a… Till it seems that you can almost… There’s a solemn sort o’ stillness…

If this were all of life we’ll kno… If this brief space of breath Were all there is to human toil, If death were really death, And never should the soul arise

Last night Ma said to Pa: 'My de… The Williamsons are coming here To visit for a week or two, An’ I must have a talk with you. We need some things which we must…