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Show JUST FOLKS By edgar A. Guest 1 4 CHILDREN OF THE DEAD w a are the children of the dead. Beyond the doors of Heaven s blue Brave souls expect us to be true. Who knows how many tears the sheu W hen one of us shall walk astray? Who knows the words of praise they say i When one of us upon the earth .Shall justify his hour of birth; We follow them who lived before Because they lived we now have life And strength to meet Its time ot strife. Uor Hi they opened wide the door, Bequeathed to us all things they learned, Left giildepoata on the roads thev turned. And to the. best that they could know. Pointed ihe waj for us to go. The dead have sung the souks we sing, Have loved these roses and the dew And smiled beneath our skies ot blue. Seen the swift swallows om the w:n. And hope 1 as we are hoping here. Toiled at their tasks from year to year That we who were to come to birth Should find a kindlier, richer earth. We are the living now, and yet Soon we must go to Join the vast Uncounted army of the past On whom the sun of life has set. And like our dead, whose young we are. I Our influence shall travel far Behind us countless ages stay. To learn from us the better way. oo |