They're Waiting  Over There

They're waiting for us over there;
The young, the beautiful and fair
Who left us, oh, so long ago,
Lonely and  hurt on earth below,

Then, when our journey here is done,
and we set out to follow on
Through the great, heavy mantled door
Which leads to rest forever more,
They will be there to laugh away
The loneliness we feel today.

They'll welcome us with wondrous grace,
And show us all about the place;
They'll take us gently by the hand
And guide us through that radiant land;
They'll tell us all they've  learned and seen
Through the long absence that has been.

We'll meet the friends who have been kind
To them the while we stayed behind ─
Angels who long have dwelt above,
Who welcomed them with  arms of love,
And sheltered them the long years through,
Just as we'd prayed for them to do.

Though now you mourn, who stay behind,
How sad 'twould be to leave, and find
Upon that distant other shore
No loved one who had gone before ─
The gates of Heaven to enter through
With no one there to welcome you.

As now, when some long journey ends
And we're received by smiling friends
Who've watched and waited for our train,
So shall they welcome us again;
The young, the beautiful and fair
Will all be waiting for us there.

[The Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest: The Reilly &  Lee co; 1934 ]

I'd like to think when life is done.
That I had taken gifts divine,
And tried to use them now and then
In service for my fellow men.

*

The Spirit of the Home

Dishes to wash and clothes to mend,
And always another meal to plan,
Never the tasks of a mother end
And oh, so early  her day began!
Floors to sweep and the pies to bake,
And chairs to dust and the beds to make.

Oh, the home is fair when you come at night
And the meal is good and the children gay,
And the kettle sings in its glad delight
And the mother smiles in her gentle way;
So great her love that  you seldom see
Or catch a hint of the drudgery.

Home, you say, when the day is done,
Home to comfort and peace and rest;
Home, where the children romp and run ─
There is the place you love the best!
Yet what would the home be like if you
Had all of its endless tasks to do?

Would it be home if she were  not  there,
Brave and gentle and fond and true?
Could you so fragrant a meal prepare?
Could you the numberless duties do?
What  were the home that you love so much,
Lacking her presence and  gracious touch?

She is the spirit of all that's fair;
She is the home that you think you build !
She, with her love and her gentle smile,
Is all that make the home worth while.