Don't you grumble at the meanness that heaps up your path with wrong!
There are golden hearts of goodness that are full of love and song,
And along the ways you wander all their anthems ever rise
Like a chorus of the angels from the mansions in the skies!
IV.
Don't you grumble at the weather! Don't you growl around at fate!
In this world of life and labor, you must fish or cut the bait;
And if here you're always fretting o'er each little sob and sigh,
You will hardly relish heaven when you reach the Bye and Bye.
Enough Heaven for Him.
"Go 'way, man!" said an obsarvant Logan county darkey. "Doan't yuh come en talk to me erbout gittin' rich er bein' pooah! Nary one ob dem things bodders me. Ef perlitical campaigns'll jes' las' all de time en canderdates run all de yar roun', dis worl'll be hebben ernuff fer me!"
"Keep Away from Trouble."
Keep away from trouble,—
Keep away, I say!
He will double, double,
If you walk his way;
Go the other path-way;
Pass the rascal by;
Keep your face a-smiling
For the glory-sky!