Oh, north and south and east and west The crowded roadways go, And sweating brow and weary breast Are all they seem to know. And mad for pleasure some are bent, And some are seeking fame, And some are sick with discontent, And some are bruised and lame. Across the world the gleaming steel Holds out its lure for men, But no one finds his comfort real Till he comes home again. And charted lanes now line the sea For weary hearts to roam, But, Oh, the finest path to me Is that which leads to home. 'Tis there I come to laughing eyes And find a welcome true; 'Tis there all care behind me lies And joy is ever new. And, Oh, when every day is done Upon that little street, A pair of rosy youngsters run To me with flying feet. The world with myriad paths is lined But one alone for me, One little road where I may find The charms I want to see. Though thoroughfares majestic call The multitude to roam, I would not leave, to know them all, The path that leads to home. {32} A FRIEND'S GREETING I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me; I'd like to be the help that you've been always glad to be; I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day As you have meant, old friend of mine, to me along the way. I'd like to do the big things and the splendid things for you, To brush the gray from out your skies and leave them only blue; I'd like to say the kindly things that I so oft have heard, And feel that I could rouse your soul the way that mine you've stirred. I'd like to give you back the joy that you have given me, Yet that were wishing you a need I hope will never be; I'd like to make you feel as rich as I, who travel on Undaunted in the darkest hours with you to lean upon. I'm wishing at this Christmas time that I could but repay A portion of the gladness that you've strewn along my way; And could I have one wish this year, this only would it be: I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me. {33} A SONG None knows the day that friends must part None knows how near is sorrow; If there be laughter in your heart, Don't hold it for to-morrow. Smile all the smiles you can to-day; Grief waits for all along the way. To-day is ours for joy and mirth; We may be sad to-morrow; Then let us sing for all we've worth, Nor give a thought to sorrow. None knows what lies along the way; Let's smile what smiles we can to-day. {34} OLD FRIENDS