The Call

Joy stands on the hilltops, Beckoning to me, Urging me to journey Up where I can see Blue skies ever smiling, Cool green fields below, Hear the songs of children Still untouched by woe.

Joy stands on the hilltops, Urging me to stay, Spite of toil and trouble, To life's rugged way, Holding out a promise Of a life serene When the steeps I've mastered Lying now between.

Joy stands on the hilltops, Smiling down at me, Urging me to clamber Up where I can see Over toil and trouble Far beyond despair, And I answer smiling: Some day I'll be there.

Songs of Rejoicing

Songs of rejoicin', Of love and of cheer, Are the songs that I'm yearnin' for Year after year. The songs about children Who laugh in their glee Are the songs worth the singin', The bright songs for me.

Songs of rejoicin', Of kisses and love, Of faith in the Father, Who sends from above The sunbeams to scatter The gloom and the fear; These songs worth the singin', The songs of good cheer.

Songs of rejoicin', Oh, sing them again, The brave songs of courage Appealing to men. Of hope in the future Of heaven the goal; The songs of rejoicin' That strengthen the soul.

Another Mouth to Feed

We've got another mouth to feed, From out our little store; To satisfy another's need Is now my daily chore. A growing family is ours, Beyond the slightest doubt; It takes all my financial powers To keep them looking stout. With us another makes his bow To breakfast, dine and sup; Our little circle's larger now, For Buddy's got a pup.

If I am frayed about the heels And both my elbows shine And if my overcoat reveals The poverty that's mine, 'Tis not because I squander gold In folly's reckless way; The cost of foodstuffs, be it told, Takes all my weekly pay. 'Tis putting food on empty plates That eats my wages up; And now another mouth awaits, For Buddy's got a pup. And yet I gladly stand the strain, And count the task worth while, Nor will I dismally complain

While Buddy wears a smile. What's one mouth more at any board Though costly be the fare? The poorest of us can afford His frugal meal to share. And so bring on the extra plate, He will not need a cup, And gladly will I pay the freight Now Buddy's got a pup.

The Little Church

The little church of Long Ago, where as a boy I sat With mother in the family pew and fumbled with my hat-- How I would like to see it now the way I saw it then, The straight-backed pews, the pulpit high, the women and the men Dressed stiffly. in their Sunday clothes and solemnly devout, Who closed their eyes when prayers were said and never looked about-- That little church of Long Ago, it wasn't grand to see, But even as a little boy it meant a lot to me.

The choir loft where father sang comes back to me again; I hear his tenor voice once more the way I heard it when The deacons used to pass the plate, and once again I see The people fumbling for their coins, as glad as they could be To drop their quarters on the plate, and I'm a boy once more With my two pennies in my fist that mother gave before We left the house, and once again I'm reaching out to try To drop them on the plate before the deacon passes by.

It seems to me I'm sitting in that high-backed pew, the while The minister is preaching in that good old-fashioned style; And though I couldn't understand it all somehow I know The Bible was the text book in that church of Long Ago; He didn't preach on politics, but used the word of God, And even now I seem to see the people gravely nod, As though agreeing thoroughly with all he had to say, And then I see them thanking him before they go away.

The little church of Long Ago was not a structure huge, It had no hired singers or no other subterfuge To get the people to attend, 'twas just a simple place Where every Sunday we were told about God's saving grace; No men of wealth were gathered there to help it with a gift; The only worldly thing it had--a mortgage hard to lift. And somehow, dreaming here to-day, I wish that I could know The joy of once more sitting in that church of Long Ago.