GOOD.

GOOD.
393.2

Tall chimneys are belching
Their columns of smoke;
But life is a plenic,
Oh, life is a jokel
The street cars are glanging,
And work calls to me
But there’s a home-coming,
Home-coming to thee.

Aye, there’s a home-coming
At night time to you,
To you and our cottage
And happiness, too;
So let the tall chimneys
Belch columns of black,
They call me of mornings
But night brings me back.

Stand, you and the baby,
Tonight by the gate;
With you there to meet me
I cannot be late,
And teach her to call me,
And teach her to “goo,”
With joy at my coming
To her and to you.

Some day when she’s Walking
All life will be giad-
Just think of the first time
She runs to meet dad!
Won’t life be worth living?
Won’t life be a song
When the feet of our baby
Cun patter along?

I stood by her cradle
Last night when the half
Of the night had gone by
And she gave a glad laugh-
And stretched out her arms,
And she gurgled with glee!
It’s a daisy old world,
And the Lord’s good to me!
-Houston Post