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Show Ttest. Look through the vale beyond the mist, It Isn't far, the-final goal, Below those hill tops, violet kis't. The rest for every weary soul. The cycle of your lives is brief, And all there is for you and me A mite of joy, a deal of grief Then Hillsides of Eternity. Poor children of a city's hell, With wasted form, and weazened face; Be patient just a little spell, Your bonds will break so swift the pace. The struggle in the mart and moil Will soon be past, and you'll be free. The heart-aches gone and gone the toil, On Hillsides of Eternity. Poor women of a city's pave, There's rest outside the arms of Lust; A place you may forget the knave, Who crushed your whiter soul to dust. Your scarlet heart of shame will rot. Your shackles fall, and you'll be free, And all but good will be forgot, On Hillsides of Eternity. Poor men who breast a city's din, To chase Ambition in its flight, Who sometimes win, or fall and sin The path is short that leads through night. For all the struggle and the pain, There's one reward for you and me, The rest we all may hope to gain On Hillsides of Eternity. TOD GOODWIN. |