With an angel flower-laden, every day a dimpled maiden Sails away from off my bosom on a radiant sea of bliss; I can see her drifting, drifting, hear the snowy wings uplifting As he woos her into Dreamland with a kiss.
Blissful hour, my pretty sleeper, guarded by an angel keeper, List'ning to the words he brings thee from a fairer world than this; Sweet! thy heart he is beguiling, I can tell it by thy smiling, As he woos thee into Dreamland with a kiss.
Could there come to weary mortals such a glimpse through golden portals, Would we not drift on forever toward the longed-for land of peace, Would we not leave joys and sorrows, Glad to-days and sad to-morrows, For the sound of white wings lifting, and the kiss?
HER MISSION.
She is so winsome and so wise She sways me at her will, And oft the question will arise, What mission does she fill? O then I say with pride untold, And love beyond degree, This woman with the heart of gold, She just keeps house for me— For me, She just keeps house for me!
A full content dwells on her face, She's quite in love with life, And for a title wears with grace The sweet old-fashioned "wife." Our children climb upon her knee, And nestle on her breast, And ah! her mission seems to me The grandest and the best.
O then I say with pride untold, And love beyond degree, This woman with the heart of gold, She just keeps house for me— For me, She just keeps house for me!