Oklahoma Sunshine Part 23

The Lights of Home.

I.

Heave ho the anchor, laddies! The ocean rolls before; We'll climb the waves undaunted and search the far off sh.o.r.e; We'll breast the angry breakers that on the beaches comb And sail, ah, sail, my hearties, for harbor-lights of home!

II.

'Tis far the s.h.i.+ps have drifted across the booming seas; 'Tis far our sails have darkened with toils and agonies; 'Tis far that youth has wandered where life's deep sorrows come But ho, my lads, we're sailing for harbor-lights of home!

III.

Beyond the raging tempest, beyond the waves that roar, There waits the peaceful harbor and lights upon the sh.o.r.e; And when the voyage ceases, beyond the farthest foam We'll anchor there forever 'neath habor-lights of home!

IV

Then weigh the anchor, laddies! The s.h.i.+p of life shall sail Once more to youth's glad mornings and joys that never fail; No matter how the weather, how far the course may roam, There always s.h.i.+nes a welcome in harbor-lights of home!

Caught on the Fly.

Life is a great university, but it offers no post-graduate course for its pupils.

Prejudice plays the fool, when mere lack of sense would be the highest wisdom.

Too many people forsake praising G.o.d for the pleasures they have in order to pray for trouble they haven't.

However you may shape things up, there is more down fool prejudice about politics than anything else in this world except Mormonism and religion.

One of the strangest things in the economies of this world is that the poor people who need money never have it and the rich people who don't need it have more than they can use.

"When the Campaign Liar Quits."

When the hurrah days are over And the ballots all are cast, There's perchance a tinge of sadness, Over glories that are past; But we have our compensations; For no matter how it flits There's a joy that beats unbounded When the campaign liar quits!

While the red fire and the rockets Fill the skies with rosy glare, There's a kind of inspiration In the shouts and music there; But we pa.s.s it up with gladness And contentment on us sits, When the ballots all are counted And the campaign liar quits!

He is trained in facts and figures, He's a prodigy, in sooth; He can tell the smoothest story, But he s.h.i.+es away from truth; So we gladly lose the glory, (It was never worth two bits!) When the ballots all are counted And the campaign liar quits!

So, no matter how it ended!

Whether your men lost or mine.

We can shake hands all together O'er this recompense divine; For we have a joy that pleases,-- That exalts our blessed wits; And we know when all is over That the campaign liar quits!

Thank the Lord for Work.

Never pray for idle hours,-- Never try to shrink; But with all your honest powers Thank the Lord for work!

Labor brings the pleasures high And the joys that thrive,-- Where men laugh and where men cry, Dearest thing alive!

Thank the Lord for strength to toil,-- Thank him day by day,-- Son of sky or son of soil On life's vagrant way.

With a soul that fearless grows And a good arm strong, Joyously the glad heart goes Up the world of song!

There was a young lady from Beaver Who feared that her fellow would leave her; So she popped to her beau; But he answered her "Neau"!

And she called him a heartless deceiver!

"Sing a Song of Suns.h.i.+ne."

Sing a song of suns.h.i.+ne!

Life is full of bliss; 'Nother over yonder Just as good as this; When the trouble's over, And the waiting long, We will sing the music Of the suns.h.i.+ne song!

Mighty Lonesome.

"Things am might loneseme erroun' de cabin now," said old Black Mose.

"'Lection is ober, en de candahdates am all quit runnin' so suddenly dat nary one ob em's bin hyar fer two whole days, en de chilluns am all outen side-meat!"

Caught on the Fly.

Merit generally wins, but sometimes it is the doped horse in the swift race.