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Show oc ABOUT GRUMBLERS I hear men whimper an' complain About the way the world Is run On sunny days they sigh -for rain An" when it rains they want the sun. ' if we were runnln things," they say. Therc'd be much less o' grief an' wrong ' We'd keep the clouds o care away An' liTe v. on li be one round o'song." Yet in the homes where they abale As lords an' masters day by day, The women folks are sorely tiled The children nrc not always. BJ l I The prounds are often bleak'an' bate; The roses struggling by the fence Don't seem to show the tender care Of notable intelligence. : I ve never found a grumbler yet Whose dealings with his feiiow man' Were free from ei roi oi regret Or shaped to any faultless plan. ! WJth'n his territory small i An' on the round he dally makes, I Where he is lord nn loss of all I noticed that he makes mistakes So Then T hear such men complain About the way the Hand LMvlne Orders the sunshine an" the rain An' regulates each tree an' vine, I look around an' try to see The kind o' Wbrk that he has done An I'm as glad as I can be He doesn't have the world to run. |