It’s sad to come to the end of the
trail,
When your sun is setting
low,
And your journey’s end is just beyond,
Not
many miles more to go.
Oh, it’s sad, I say, if you find too
late,
As
toward the west your journey ends,
That you’ve missed the joy you might
have known,
In
making and keeping friends.
We toil for loved ones, day by day,
We
give of our hard earned store,
We laugh or sigh down the sunlit way,
Till
the journey is almost o’er,
Then perchance we pause and some to
know,
What
it means when journey ends,
We have lived in vain if we do not
know,
What
it means to call folks friends.
It’s good to feel a real friend cares,
It’s
good to know they’re near,
When sorrow comes that we all must
share,
How
we prize a word of cheer,
Or the tender clasp of a true friend’s
hand,
That
understands our woe,
Will help to make that long way sweet,
As
we all will come to know.
Oh, keep your friends, by being loyal,
And
tell them you love them dear,
The time and place to call them
friends,
Is
the while you journey here,
Oh, the joy you’ll find, as the years
go by,
Oh,
the glory that comes to you,
In knowing you have a friend who cares
And
you’ve earned by being true.
It’s not too late, though the shadows
fall,
And
your sun in the West is low,
Just a tender word or sunny smile,
Dropped
here and there as you go.
And you’ll rejoice when the eve has
come,
And
you’ve reached the journey’s end,
That you can say I have kept the
faith,
I
have loved and known a friend.
Katherine Carey-Place 1878-1934
February 1932
Copyright Roy Richard
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