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Mary E. Griswold.
A. Beirly

1. Thro' the ripple of the moments,
And the louder surge of years;
Thro' the prattle of the children,
And the grief of woman's tears.

D. C.
Let us head the accents tender,
Answer, "Father, here am I,"
Bear aloft the temp'rance banner
While the eager throng pass by.

Midst the thunder of the battle,
Or when stilled the bitter strife,
Ev'rywhere the Master calleth,
Wooing to a better life. (better life.)

2. Lo, the fields are white with harvest
Waiting for the sickle keen,
Days of earnest, faithful reaping,
With a song of trust between.


3. Helpless wives and sad-eyed children
Reaching out despairing hands
Pleading ever, "Prohibition, God and Home and Native Land."


Copyright, 1889, by The W. T. P. A.