As It Is

I might wish the world were better, I might sit around and sigh For a water that is wetter And a bluer sort of sky. There are times I think the weather Could be much improved upon, But when taken altogether It's a good old world we're on. I might tell how I would make it, But when I have had my say It is still my job to take jt As it is, from day to day.

I might wish that men were kinder, And less eager after gold; I might wish that they were blinder To the faults they now behold. And I'd try to make them gentle, And more tolerant in strife And a bit more sentimental O'er the finer things of life. But I am not here to make them, Or to work in human clay; It is just my work to take them As they are from day to day.

Here's a world that suffers sorrow, Here are bitterness and pain, And the joy we plan to-morrow May be ruined by the rain. Here are hate and greed and badness, Here are love and friendship, too, But the most of it is gladness When at last we've run it through. Could we only understand it As we shall some distant day We should see that He who planned it Knew our needs along the way.

A Boy's Tribute

Prettiest girl I've ever seen Is Ma. Lovelier than any queen Is Ma. Girls with curls go walking by, Dainty, graceful, bold an' shy, But the one that takes my eye Is Ma.

Every girl made into one Is Ma. Sweetest girl to look upon Is Ma. Seen 'em short and seen 'em tall, Seen 'em big and seen 'em small, But the finest one of all Is Ma.

Best of all the girls on earth Is Ma. One that all the rest is worth Is Ma. Some have beauty, some have grace, Some look nice in silk and lace, But the one that takes first place Is Ma.

Sweetest singer in the land is Ma. She that has the softest hand Is Ma. Tenderest, gentlest nurse is she, Full of fun as she can be, An' the only girl for me Is Ma.

Bet if there's an angel here It's Ma.' if God has a sweetheart dear, It's Ma. Take the girls that artists draw, An' all the girls I ever saw, The only

one without a flaw Is Ma.

Up to the Ceiling

Up to the ceiling And down to the floor, Hear him now squealing And calling for more. Laughing and shouting, "Away up!" he cries. Who could be doubting The love in his eyes. Heigho! my baby! And heigho! my son! Up to the ceiling Is wonderful fun.

Bigger than daddy And bigger than mother; Only a laddie, But bigger than brother. Laughing and crowing And squirming and wriggling, Cheeks fairly glowing, Now cooing and giggling! Down to the cellar, Then quick as a dart Up to the ceiling Brings joy to the heart.

Gone is the hurry, The anguish and sting, The heartache and worry That business cares bring; Gone is the hustle, The clamor for gold, The rush and the bustle The day's affairs hold. Peace comes to the battered Old heart of his dad, When "up to the ceiling" He plays with his lad.