Hope

Mine is a song of hope

For the days that lie before;

For the grander things

The morrow brings

When the struggle days are o'er.

Dark be the clouds to-day,

Bitter the winds that blow,

But falter nor fail,

Through the howling gale —

Comes peace in the afterglow.

Mine is the song of hope,

A song for the mother here,

Who lulls to rest

The babe at breast,

And hopes for a brighter year.

Hope is the song she sings,

Hope is the prayer she prays;

As she rocks her boy,

She dreams of the joy

He'll bring in the future days.

Mine is the song of hope,

A song for the father, too,

Whose right arm swings,

While his anvil sings

A song of the journey through.

Hope is the star that guides,

Hope is the father's sun;

Far ahead he sees,

Through the waving trees,

Sweet peace when his work is done.

Mine is the song of hope,

Of hope that sustains us all;

Be we young or old,

Be we weak or bold,

Do we falter or even fall,

Brightly the star of hope

From the distance is shining still;

And with courage new

We rise to do,

For hope is the God of Will.