OCR Text |
Show THE COMMONPLACE I The snllle upon a friendly face Holds nothing that Is commonplace; It's fresh as sunlight nnd tbo dew ' And through the years Is ever now. Though other JoWi. grow cold nnd atale, The harms of fiiondship never fail. .Men weary of the vprld. they cry, And 1 cm only wonder why. I For every rising of the sun i Bring splendid things to look upon, And every dny we wake to view , The least of ua Is liorn anew I Who wearies of the friendly hand I That's waved to him across tho land? j Who, when ho opens wide his door. Poo;-, no. rejoice to hoar oneo more His neighbor's salutation k: ) At the commencement of the day? Who Is not glad that he ran ace Dny after day tho self-same tree? 'Who cannot turn Ma eyes on high And find new splendors in the sky. n-lm tnillit stunm ns c ommonnl.i" e (The beauty of a loved one's face? In all mon are, in all tho do. ! There is i trtrill that's ever new. Despite the eoro and pain of strife I There's no monotony to life. Though nothing new exists. We're told, , The truth Is there Is nothing old. ! oo |