YOUR TO-MORROW

Who is it walking yonder
With the lunch pail on his arm?
It's the future of your country
And you dare not do him harm.
There are some who call him brother
In a philanthropic mood,
But he looks to many another
Just a wretch from labor's brood.
Will you grant consideration
To this man of dusky brow,
Who is toiling on probation
For the rights that you have now?
Will you grant him honest hire,
With a day to rest and live?
He has reaped you your desire,
Must he cry to you to give?
You can guide him while he's waiting
And establishing his heart,
Teach him courage unabating,
Teach him God will do his part.
Yes, just now he's plain Croatian,
But if you will help him through,
He will some day guide the nation
Which depended once on you.

HYMN OF COOPERATION[1]

(Tune: “Beatitudo”)

O God of gifts exceeding rare
To brothers here below,
Accept our grateful, anxious prayer
And make our talents grow;
O take away the unused gift,
The power allowed to drift;
Show us that weak things from above
Gain strength to heal through love.
The truths, O Lord, Thou late hast taught
Have made us clearly see
That when we serve Thee as we ought,
Then only are we free.
Grant that Thy plan of majesty
May let us work with Thee
To change the water into wine,
And grosser things refine.
O God of gifts exceeding rare,
Help us for life prepare,
Till by our striving here below
We feel our manhood grow;
Preserve us gentle in our strength,
And patient with the slow,
Till we deserve such praise at length
As only Thou shalt know.