One climax comes in every play,
And only one;
And after it has had its day
The struggle’s won.
Untangled is each vagrant thread;
Sad hearts to happiness are led;
And, with the days all fair ahead,
The play is done.
One climax comes in every life,
And only one--
The apex of our human strife,
The race we run.
Then woes are banished; tears are dried;
Our answered questions put aside;
Life’s dearest hope is satisfied;
Then life is done.
Home v1921
[Transcriber’s note: All verses are italicized.]
The joy that some hearts treasure, the hope that others prize;
The wistful wish that, buried deep, sometimes in others lies;
A word so dear that men will die with gladness for its sake;
The forge at which are welded strong the ties that naught can break;
A garden in the wildest waste of this world’s desert life;
A spot where dwell both peace and calm amid the fiercest strife;
A refuge from each storm that beats; the place in all the land
Where there are souls who sympathize and hearts that understand;
The rock whereon the anchors hold that keep us safe and fast
When else would perish all we are and have amid the blast;
The shrine before whose holy light does fondest worship come;
The choicest ideal of the heart--its sacred name is HOME.