. Barefoot days and sundown songs. bells That mark the hours of star-watched night,Until with joy the morning swells And eastern skies all flame with light. Not yet the end, while human greed Still seeks with lustful eyes the soilWhere patient peasants sowed the seed, And sanctified it with their gold is god and fame the crown That men pursue with quenchless thirst,And swiftly strike a brother down Lest he should gain its glitter first. 8i Not yet the end, while human blood Bespatters marketplace and mead,And like a mighty, rushing flood, The hellish hounds of war are freed,Until the
. Barefoot days and sundown songs. bells That mark the hours of star-watched night,Until with joy the morning swells And eastern skies all flame with light. Not yet the end, while human greed Still seeks with lustful eyes the soilWhere patient peasants sowed the seed, And sanctified it with their gold is god and fame the crown That men pursue with quenchless thirst,And swiftly strike a brother down Lest he should gain its glitter first. 8i Not yet the end, while human blood Bespatters marketplace and mead,And like a mighty, rushing flood, The hellish hounds of war are freed,Until the sun turns dark with shame, The silver moon flames fiery weltering nations count their fame From heaps on heaps of foemen dead. Not yet the end, until the Child Who came to earth while beamed the star,Shall wield His scepter, meek and mild, And men shall see the things as they heart of mine, be patient yet, The road winds on for many a mile,Though men grow heedless and forget Theyll think and weep, in afterwhile. 82. The dear home paths WHEN WE ALL GET HOME ATNIGHT WHEN in other lands we wander,And in distant paths we roam,How our hearts grow warm and tender,When at night we think of home. And the hills we loved in childhoodSeem to call us from they did when o*er their summitsWe beheld the evening star. Our lives are but a journeyRound the circle, through the glen,And when shadows fall at evenWe shall all come home again. In the dear home paths well the years that took their flightIn our joy will be forgotten,When we all come home at night. And the Father who has missed us,When so sadly we did roam,And the Saviour who has loved usWill receive us, **Welcome home. 83
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidbarefootdays, bookyear1922
