THE WORLD AT ITS BEST.

THE WORLD AT ITS BEST.
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It’s a good old world when the days are fair
And a good old world when itrains;
There are woes sometimes that are hard to bear.
There are efforts that bring few gains:
But the joys that come with each glad new day,
And the troubles we leave behind,
Are so good to claim and so sweet to leave
That the foolish only sit down and griove
For the pleasures they may not find
.
It’s a good old world when the wild winds blow,
And the rivers are frozen o’er,
It’s a good old world when the hot streets glow,
And the brooks through the can- yons roar.
It’s a good old world when the god of war
Has folded his brawny arms,
And the roses bloom and the robin sings,
And the beautiful maiden fondly elings
To the gladdened one she charms.

It’s a good old world when the heart beats young,
And vigor and health remain; a good old world when the flags
It’s are flying,
Where rises the martial strain;
But good as it is when the sky is blue,
And blossoms float gently down,
The world is best when a man’s done well
And goes back home as a howling swell
To his little old native town.
-Chicago Record-Herald.