There is no sadness but is sweet
With fragrance, and there is no day
But spreads some beauty on life's way;
The dusty and the weary feet
Upon their homeward journey bring
Delights which loving hearts may sing.
The high chair and the cradle, too,
Have ever set brave lips to song;
No grief has ever lived so long
But turned to music as it grew,
And every hour of strife and pain
Leaves in the heart some sweet refrain.
Lord, teach me this, from day to day,
To find beyond the hurt and care
Thy mercy shining everywhere;
Let me rejoice that children play,
And know when bitter tempests sting
There is a song in everything.
Triumph
Back of every golden dream.
Every engine hissing steam,
Back of every hammer falling
And of every deed men dare;
Back of every tilt and fight
Is the coming home at night
To the loved ones who are waiting
In the victory to share.
When all is said and done
And the battle's lost or won,
It's the laughter of the children
And the mother's gentle smile,
It's the pride of those you know,
Good old friends who love you so,
That make the prize worth having
And the victory worth while.
'Tis not in success alone
That achievement's worth is known.
If we had no friends to cheer us
And no one at home to care;
If man's glory as a fighter
Did not make a few eyes brighter
He would cease to try for conquest
And would never do or dare.
Back of every man you'll find
Loving hearts who stay behind,
Watching, waiting, patient, loyal,
As he strives to meet the test,
And the thought which drives him daily
Is that they shall meet him gayly,
And shall glory in his triumph
On the day he does his best.