He wins to courage the soul-tried men; he lightens their hours of sorrow; He turns their thoughts from the grief that is to the joy that may come to-morrow. He mocks at death and he jests at toil, as one that is never weary; He japes at danger and discipline, Or the muddy trench that he's standing in; There's nothing can banish his merry grin, Or dampen his spirits cheery. The honors of war to its heroes go; for them are the pomp and glory, But seldom it is that the types relate a victory's inside story. And few shall know when the strife is done and the history's made hereafter, How much depended on him who stirred The souls of men with a cheerful word, And kept them brave by a jest absurd, And brightened their days with laughter. Faith It is faith that bridges the land of breath To the realms of the souls departed, That comforts the living in days of death, And strengthens the heavy-hearted. It is faith in his dreams that keeps a man Face front to the odds about him, And he shall conquer who thinks he can, In spite of the throngs who doubt him. Each must stand in the court of life And pass through the hours of trial; He shall tested be by the rules of strife, And tried for his self-denial. Time shall bruise his soul with the loss of friends, And frighten him with disaster, But he shall find when the anguish ends That of all things faith is master. So keep your faith in the God above, And faith in the righteous truth, It shall bring you back to the absent love, And the joys of a vanished youth. You shall smile once more when your tears are dried, Meet trouble and swiftly rout it, For faith is the strength of the soul inside, And lost is the man without it. The Burden Bearer Oh, my shoulders grow aweary of the burdens I am bearin', An' I grumble when I'm footsore at the rough road I am farin', But I strap my knapsack tighter till I feel the leather bind me, An' I'm glad to bear the burdens for the ones who come behind me. It's for them that I am ploddin', for the children comin' after; I would strew their path with roses and would fill their days with laughter. Oh, there's selfishness within me, there are times it gets to talkin', Times I hear it whisper to me, "It's a dusty road you're walkin'; Why not rest your feet a little; why not pause an' take your leisure? Don't you hunger in your strivin' for the merry whirl of pleasure?" Then I turn an' see them smilin' an' I grip my burdens tighter, For the joy that I am seekin' is to see their eyes grow brighter. Oh, I've sipped the cup of sorrow an' I've felt the gad of trouble, An' I know the hurt of trudgin' through a field o'errun with stubble; But a rougher road to travel had my father good before me, An' I'm owin' all my gladness to the tasks he shouldered for me. Oh, I didn't understand it, when a lad I played about him, But he labored for my safety in the days I'd be without him.