For man is a dreamer ever. He glimpses the hills afar
And plans for the joys off yonder where all his to-morrows are;
When trials and cares beset him, in the distance he still can see
A hint of a future splendid and the glory that is to be.
There's never a man among us but cherishes dreams of rest;
We toil for that something better than that which is now our best.
Oh, what if the cup be bitter and what if we're racked with pain?
There are wonderful days to follow when never we'll grieve again.
Back of the sound of the hammer, and back of the hissing steam,
And back of the hand at the throttle is ever a lofty dream;
All of us, great or humble, look over the present need
To the dawn of the glad to-morrow which is promised in every creed.
What Is Success?
Success is being friendly when another needs a friend;
It's in the cheery words you speak, and in the coins you lend;
Success is not alone in skill and deeds of daring great;
It's in the roses that you plant beside your garden gate.
Success is in the way you walk the paths of life each day;
It's in the little things you do and in the things you say;
Success is in the glad hello you give your fellow man;
It's in the laughter of your home and all the joys you plan.
Success is not in getting rich or rising high to fame;
It's not alone in winning goals which all men hope to claim;
It's in the man you are each day, through happiness or care;
It's in the cheery words you speak and in the smile you wear.
Success is being big of heart and clean and broad of mind;
It's being faithful to your friends, and to the stranger, kind;
It's in the children whom you love, and all they learn from you—
Success depends on character and everything you do.
The Three Me's
I'd like to steal a day and be
All alone with little me,
Little me that used to run
Everywhere in search of fun;
Little me of long ago
Who was glad and didn't know
Life is freighted down with care
For the backs of men to bear;
Little me who thought a smile
Ought to linger all the while—
On his Mother's pretty face
And a tear should never trace
Lines of sorrow, hurt or care
On those cheeks so wondrous fair.