O, my Heart, the days are weary with the burdens that we know: Hand in hand we'll haste and hurry to the Love Lands long ago!

Let us stroll as happy lovers down the roaring ways of men Till the lilies of contentment blossom sweetly once again.

It was there we wove our Daydream, it was there the Promise sung, For the world from us was hidden and our little lives were young.

There were happy lanes of laughter that our childish rambles knew, Where the roses gave their glories in a ruddy crown for you.

Let us wander through the deserts and the dusty ways they know To the green fields and the meadows of the Love Lands long ago!

On the road, perchance, we'll gather some of sweetness and of song, As we thread the dim aisles fearful and the pathways lorn and long.

You remember how we pledged us all the glories of renown,-- Pledged the gold of Ind and Ophir and the greatness of the crown.

You remember how we pledged us in the fancies of our youth, We would run the quest forever for the Holy Grail of Truth!

You remember how we pledged us we would banish want and woe, As we laughed and sang the love-song in the Love Lands long ago!

What if we have failed to keep it?

Hard the struggle, fierce the throng, And the shoutings of the rabble drown the glory of the song!

What if we have failed to keep it?

All the maddened mobs of hate Hurl the stones of mirth and malice where Truth opes her timid gate!

Shall we sorrow at the wreckage that is heaped along the sh.o.r.e Where the waters gnaw unceasing and endeavor sails no more!

Shall we sorrow that the laughters, left the shadows of the way, And the cares of life unlifting fringed the rosy skies with gray?

Shall we sorrow without comfort for the dreams that fled in tears,-- For the hopes forlorn and shattered on the sh.o.r.es of other years?

We have lost the glare and glamor of the dreams we dreamed of old, But the Wise of earth have brought us of their frankincense and gold.

We have lost the green of May-time, but the autumn gardens red Hang with all the fruited wisdom for the blossoms that are dead!

We have lost our foolish boasting,--we are cleansed of evil pride, And we face the past and future with their vistas wild and wide!

Still, my Heart, the days are heavy!

Wisdom weights and wearies so!

Let us run away together to the Love Lands long ago!

Caught on the Fly.

Beauty is not always skin-deep. Sometimes it is put on with a rag.

If you don't want Trouble to bring her dogs and hunt all over your place for game, you should tack up warning signs over every fence-post on the premises.

Lots of money is said to bring lots of trouble. But, Lord, our shoulders are mighty broad and we always did think we would like to have experiences of that kind.

Trudge Along.

Trudge along, my brother, Through the snows!

Over yonder wait the summer And the rose.

Trudge along, my brother, Trudge along!

Over yonder wait the angels And the song!

A Fine Job.

"Ah done tole yuh, Mose, howsomevah de people conflastahgate, dese heah legislachuh pohsishuns am sho'ly de bes' places in all de wide woahld dat a cullahed man ebber had in de wintah time when de wood am skeerce en de snow flyin' high!"

"How come, Rastus?"

"Why, yuh fool n.i.g.g.ah yuh, doan't yuh see dat Ah git foh dollahs a day jes' toh open en shut de dooah befoh en aftah de Sanatohs when dey come in en go out foh erbout two houahs a day, en den sot down by de hot fiah all de res' ob de time while anothah n.i.g.g.ah shubbles in de coal whut anothah n.i.g.g.ah totes in at de same good price!"

A True Hero.

He wore no crown, he had no sword, He sat him in no throne of state; He shed no blood, he spent no h.o.a.rd, And therefore was not great; Yet to his tomb the nations throng: His heart was love, he sang a song!

When Trouble comes to your front gate and hears you whistling in the back-yard it scares him so bad that he never stops running till he crosses the divide into the next settlement.

Little Sermons.

Taking it all up and down, this world is a pretty good place. Only so many of us never get up or down!

Lord, we don't ask to see a thousand miles ahead. All we want is light enough to keep out of the holes two feet ahead when the Devil gets after us.

Some folks are always boasting of how many miles they keep ahead of the Devil, but I'm always thankful when I just manage to keep out of his reach when he's grabbing at me.