. Dreams and realities . s the shadow of a TIS BETTER SO. HAVE you lost your hearts crown jewel:Perhaps tis better so—For the heartaches that oppress youAnd these tears that sore distress youMake your soul to grow. Have you said farewell to pleasure? Perhaps tis better so—Bound about with sorrows fetterYou will learn to know life better; You will learn to grow. Are your lashes wet with weeping? Try to think tis better so—And I know theres one thing sure:Viewed through tear drops things are pure That were never pure before. Is your poor heart wounded, bleeding ? Maybe it is better so—Y
. Dreams and realities . s the shadow of a TIS BETTER SO. HAVE you lost your hearts crown jewel:Perhaps tis better so—For the heartaches that oppress youAnd these tears that sore distress youMake your soul to grow. Have you said farewell to pleasure? Perhaps tis better so—Bound about with sorrows fetterYou will learn to know life better; You will learn to grow. Are your lashes wet with weeping? Try to think tis better so—And I know theres one thing sure:Viewed through tear drops things are pure That were never pure before. Is your poor heart wounded, bleeding ? Maybe it is better so—You will learn to feel for others,For your wounded, fallen brothers, By a sympathy of woe. Has some fellow-creature wronged you ?Maybe it is better so— tis better so. 179 When he stands by you forgiven,You will feel the peace of heavenThrough your being glow. If the way was fair before you,You might stumble and fall low— ?Tis the things that sore distress you And the sorrows that oppress youHelp you upward THE PRODIGAL 80N. Hp-WAS the night before Thanksgiving,<JL And wild with storm and rain,As an aged face pressed closer To a misty window cant see out, she sadly said; But I will put the light-Somehow Fve always fancied Hed come home Thanksgiving night. Say, husband, speaking softly To an old man gray and bent,Dont you look to-night for Willie ? Its ten years since he youll forgive him, husband, Though twas wrong to run away?But a good true heart has Willie, And hell come back some day. Dont say, you wont forgive him, That you cannot bear his name;Let the long, long years of waiting Blot out your wrath and used to love him, husband; He was your pride and joy:For the pasts sweet sake forgive him— Our little baby boy! THE PRODIGAL SON. 181 It seems to me but yesterday I heard his first wee cry,And clasped him to my bosom To love him till I cant forget the little face That used to touch my own— 0 God, to think my boysOut in t
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