I would be brave and be true
Just for the good I can do.

I would be useful on earth,
Serving some purpose or cause,
Doing some labor of worth,
Giving no thought to applause.
Thinking less of the gold or the fame
Than the joy and the thrill of the game.

Medals their brightness may lose,
Fame be forgotten or fade,
Any reward we may choose
Leaves the account still unpaid.
But little real happiness lies
In fighting alone for a prize.

Give me the thrill of the task,
The joy of the battle and strife,
Of being of use, and I'll ask
No greater reward from this life.
Better than fame or applause
Is striving to further a cause.

MOTHER'S GLASSES

I've told about the times that Ma can't find
her pocketbook,
And how we have to hustle round for it to help
her look,