And all day long we anxious wait
To hear his foot-steps fast,
Make music sweet there at the gate
When he comes home at last!
The lonely heart with rapture fills
And life's hot warrings cool,
And all the home with laughter thrills
When Willie comes from school!
Ah, World, the school that young hearts seek!
We know full well that you
Will keep him long at tasks that speak
Of books and ferule, too!
God grant that in the far-off years
He finds no dunce's stool,
Whereon to weep with foolish tears
When Willie goes to school!
'Tis Morning on the Hill-tops.
I.
What though the valleys wander in shadows manifold?
'Tis morning on the hill-tops and all the skies are gold,
And on the purple summits the raptures of the blest
Are crooning their evangels and singing songs of rest!
II.
'Tis morning on the hill-tops? The darkness at the feet
Shall blossom at the dawning with all the roses sweet,
And every grief we gather and every tear we know
Shall vanish into gladness as up the paths we go.
III.
'Tis morning on the hill-tops! The glories of His love
With life and light supernal are waiting there above,
And up the slopes of shadow our weary feet shall climb
To kiss the smiles of rapture beyond the tears of time.