Translate
The Fun of Forgiving
Sometimes I’m almost glad to hear when I get
home that they’ve been bad;
And though I try to look severe, within my heart
I’m really glad
When mother sadly tells to me the list of awful
things they’ve done,
Because when they come tearfully, forgiving
them is so much fun.
I like to have them all alone, with no one near
to hear or see,
Then as their little faults they own, I like to take
them on my knee
And talk it over and pretend the whipping soon
must be begun;
And then to kiss them at the end forgiving
them is so much fun.
Within the world there’s no such charm as chil
dren penitent and sad,
Who put two soft and chubby arms around your
neck, when they’ve been bad.
And as you view their trembling lips, away your
temper starts to run.
And from your mind all anger slips forgiving
them is so much fun.
If there were nothing to forgive I wonder if
we’d love them so;
If they were wise enough to live as grown-ups
do, and always go
Along the pleasant path of right, with ne’er a
fault from sun to sun,
A lot of joys we’d miss at night forgiving
them is so much fun.
The Old-Fashioned Parents
The good old-fashioned mothers and the good
old-fashioned dads,
With their good old-fashioned lassies and their
good old-fashioned lads,
Still walk the lanes of loving in their simple,
tender ways,
As they used to do back yonder in the good old-
fashioned days.
They dwell in every city and they live in every
town,
Contented ly arid happy and not hungry for
renown ;
On every street you’ll find ‘em in their simple
garments clad,
The good old-fashioned mother and the good
old-fashioned dad.
There are some who sigh for riches, there are
some who yearn for fame,
And a few misguided people who no longer blush
at shame;
But the world is full of mothers, and the world is
full of dads,
Who are making sacrifices for their little girls
and lads.
They are growing old together, arm in arm they
walk along,
And their hearts with love are beating and their
voices sweet with song;
They still share their disappointments and they
share their pleasures, too,
And whatever be their fortune, to each other
they are true.
They are watching at the bedside of a baby pale
and white,
And they kneel and pray together for the care
of God at night;
They are romping with their children in the fields
of clover sweet,
And devotedly they guard them from the perils
of the street.
They are here in countless numbers, just as they
have always been,
And their glory is untainted by the selfish and
the mean.
And I’d hate to still be living, it would dismal be
and sad,
If we’d no old-fashioned mother and we’d no
old-fashioned dad.
Lullaby
The golden dreamboat’s ready, all her silken sails
are spread,
And the breeze is gently blowing to the fairy
port of Bed,
And the fairy’s captain’s waiting while the busy
sandman flies
With the. silver dust of slumber, closing every
baby’s eyes.
Oh, the night is rich w.ith moonlight and the sea
is calm with peace,
And the angels fly to guard you and their watch
shall never cease,
And the fairies there await y^u ; they have splen
did dreams to spin ;
You shall hear them gayly singing as the dream-
boat’s putting in.
Like the ripple of the water does the dreamboat’s
whistle blow,
Only baby ears can catch it when it comes the
time to go,
Only little ones may journey on so wonderful a
ship,
And go drifting off to slumber with no care to
mar the trip.
Oh, the little eyes are heavy but the little soul is
light;
It shall never know a sorrow or a terror through
the night.
And at last when dawn is breaking and the
dreamboat’s trip is o’er,
You shall wake to find the mother smiling over
you once more.