Things at home are crossways, and Betsy and I are out.
I’ve watched my duty, straight an’ true, an’ tried to do it well; Part of the time kept heaven in view, An’ part steered clear of hell.
If there’s a heaven upon the earth, a fellow knows it when He’s been away from home a week, and then gets back again.
To appreciate heaven well, it’s good for a person to have some fifteen minutes of hell.
But I have learned a thing or two; I know as sure as fate, when we lock up our lives for wealth, the gold key comes too late.
Over all our happy country – over all our Nation spread, Is a band of noble heroes – is our Army of the Dead.
Worm or beetle – drought or tempest – on a farmer’s land may fall, Each is loaded full o’ ruin, but a mortgage beats ’em all.