Classic Poem

It's a comfort to me in life's battle,
—When the conflict seems all going wrong,
When I seem to lose every ambition
—And the current of life grows too strong,
To think that the dusk ends the warfare,
—That the worry is done for the night;
And the little child there, at the window,
—Believes that his daddy's all right.

In the heat of the day and the hurry,
—I'm prompted so often to pause,
While my mind strays away from the striving,
—Away from the noise and applause.
The cheers may be meant for some other;
—Perhaps I have lost in the fight;
But the little child waits at the window,
—Believing his daddy's all right.

I can laugh at the downfalls and failure;
—I can smile in the trial and pain;
I can feel that in spite of the errors,
—The struggle has not been in vain.
If Fortune will only retain me
—That comfort and solace at night,
When the little child waits at the window,
—Believing his daddy's all right.

It's a comfort to me in life's battle,
—When the conflict seems all going wrong,
When I seem to lose every ambition
—And the current of life grows too strong,
To think that the dusk ends the warfare,
—That the worry is done for the night;
And the little child there, at the window,
—Believes that his daddy's all right.

In the heat of the day and the hurry,
—I'm prompted so often to pause,
While my mind strays away from the striving,
—Away from the noise and applause.
The cheers may be meant for some other;
—Perhaps I have lost in the fight;
But the little child waits at the window,
—Believing his daddy's all right.

I can laugh at the downfalls and failure;
—I can smile in the trial and pain;
I can feel that in spite of the errors,
—The struggle has not been in vain.
If Fortune will only retain me
—That comfort and solace at night,
When the little child waits at the window,
—Believing his daddy's all right.