JUST LIKE HIS DAD Well, what are you going to be, my boy, When you have reached manhood's years; A doctor, a lawyer, or an actor great, Moving throngs to laughter and tears? But he shook his head as he gave re ply, In a serious way he said, " I don't think I'd care to be any of them; I want to be like my dad!" He wants to be like his dad! You men, Do you ever think, as you pause, That the boy who watches your every move Is building a set of laws? He is molding a life that's modeled by yours, And whether it is good or bad, Depends on the kind of example you set For the boy who'd be like his dad. Would you have him go wherever you go? Have him do just the things you do? And see everything that your eyes be hold, And woo all the gods you woo? When you see the worship that shines in the eyes Of your lovable little lad, Could you rest content if he gets his wish. And grows to be like his dad? SOME DAY There's a loving letter I mean to send; There's a visit I mean to pay; There's a careless habit I hope to mend When I get the time . . . some day. There's a dusty Bible I mean to read; There's an hour I'll keep to pray; And I'll turn each dream to a golden deed When I get the time . . . some day.
I will carry flowers to the sick and sad; I will seek for those who stray; You may trace my steps by the hearts made glad When I get the time . . . some day. So we have thought and so we have said; Yet how sad it is to relate That busy with less important things We waited until too late. THE CROSS WAS HIS OWN They borrowed a bed to lay His head When Christ the Lord came down, They borrowed the ass in the moun tain pass For Him to ride to town; But the crown that He wore, and the cross that He bore Were His own . . . the cross was His own. He borrowed the bread when the crowd He fed On the grassy mountain side; He borrowed the dish of broken fish With which He satisfied; But the crown that He wore, and the cross that He bore Were His own . . . the cross was His own. He borrowed the ship in which to sit To teach the multitudes; He borrowed a place in which to rest He had never a home so crude; But the crown that He wore, and the cross that He bore Were His own . . . the cross was His own. He borrowed a room on His way to the tomb, The passover lamb to eat; They borrowed a cave for Him a grave; They borrowed a winding sheet; But the crown that He wore, and the cross that He bore Were His own . . . the cross was His own.
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