Lemon Pie

The world is full of gladness,

    There are joys of many kinds,

There's a cure for every sadness,

    That each troubled mortal finds.

And my little cares grow lighter

    And I cease to fret and sigh,

And my eyes with joy grow brighter

    When she makes a lemon pie.

When the bronze is on the filling

    That's one mass of shining gold,

And its molten joy is spilling

    On the plate, my heart grows bold

And the kids and I in chorus

    Raise one glad exultant cry

And we cheer the treat before us

    Which is mother's lemon pie.

Then the little troubles vanish,

    And the sorrows disappear,

Then we find the grit to banish

    All the cares that hovered near,

And we smack our lips in pleasure

    O'er a joy no coin can buy,

And we down the golden treasure

    Which is known as lemon pie.

This version taken from Just Folks by Edgar A GuestPublished by The Reilly & Lee Co., Chicago, 1917Page 65