Not to-morrow, but to-day,
I would serve another's need,
I would smooth another's way,
Bind the cruel wounds that bleed;
Death will soothe the weary brow,
But my hand would smooth it now.
Life has need of kindly men,
Just, courageous, true and brave,
But that need is ended when
Comes the sexton to the grave;
Let me, then, my duty face,
Making earth a happier place.
Let me serve the living here,
Not the dead across the bar,
Let me carry hope and cheer
Where the sad and hopeless are;
Angels wait upon the dead—
Let me smooth the path men tread.
I Mustn't Forget
I mustn't forget that I'm gettin' old—
That's the worst thing ever a man can do.
I must keep in mind without bein' told
That old ideas must give way to new.
Let me be always upon my guard
Never a crabby old man to be,
Youth is too precious to have it marred
By the cranky whims of a man like me.
I must remember that customs change
An' I've had my youth an' my hair is gray,
Mustn't be too surprised at strange
Or startlin' things that the youngsters say;
Mustn't keep the bit in their mouths too tight,
Which is something old people are apt to do.
What used to be wrong may to-day be right
An' it may not be wrong just becoz it's new.
Want 'em to like me an' want 'em to know
That I need their laughter an' mirth an' song,
An' I want 'em near, 'coz I love 'em so,
An' home is the place where their smiles belong.
They're growin' up, an' it seems so queer
To hear them talk of the views they hold,
But age with youth shouldn't interfere
An' I mustn't forget that I'm gettin' old.
Old-Fashioned Dinners