When all is said and done And the battle's lost or won, It's the laughter of the children And the mother's gentle smile, It's the pride of those you know, Good old friends who love you so, That make the prize worth having And the victory worth while. 'Tis not in success alone That achievement's worth is known. If we had no friends to cheer us And no one at home to care; If man's glory as a fighter Did not make a few eyes brighter He would cease to try for conquest And would never do or dare. Back of every man you'll find Loving hearts who stay behind, Watching, waiting, patient, loyal, As he strives to meet the test, And the thought which drives him daily Is that they shall meet him gayly, And shall glory in his triumph On the day he does his best. _Ships_ To-day, if I were free, I think I'd wander to the river's brink And watch the great ships steaming by-- The stream below, above the sky-- And see those vessels bearing then The countless hopes of mortal men. And I could lie upon the shore And glimpse the mother at the door Watching and waiting, every trip, To see the coming of the ship, For that great hull which carries grain Also brings home her boy again. I wonder if the wheelsman knows, As he the guiding rudder throws, How many hopes and dreams and fears Are burdened in the ship he steers? Depending on his watchful eyes The laughter of a lifetime lies. Men write his cargo down as ore, Or grain or coal, but it is more-- It's women's smiles and women's tears And little children's happy years, For human destines await The safe arrival of his freight. We are but smaller packet ships Set out upon our various trips, Chartered for gold, or skill or fame, Listed and registered by name, Yet burdened with the smiles and tears Our own must know throughout the years. The women and the children wait For us each evening at the gate, Glad when we safely come from town And desolate if we go down. Bitter their years if we shall fail To hold the course and breast the gale. _Mother's Way_ Tender, gentle, brave and true, Loving us whate'er we do! Waiting, watching at the gate For the footsteps that are late, Sleepless through the hours of night Till she knows that we're all right; Pleased with every word we say-- That is every mother's way. Others sneer and turn aside. Mother welcomes us with pride; Over-boastful of us, too, Glorying in all we do, First to praise and last to blame, Love that always stays the same, Following us where'er we stray-- That is every mother's way. She would grant us all we seek, Give her strength where we are weak. Beauty? She would let it go For the joy we yearn to know. Life? She'd give it gladly, too, For the dream that we pursue; She would toil that we might play-- That is every mother's way.