Whenever I see the tired, sad eyes
Of the old folks so dear to me,
I think of the promise that they shall rise
And have peace through eternity.
Whenever I see my crippled friend
With his thought of victory won,
I see a new body in the end
When his labor here is done.
Whenever I meet the sick at heart
With their load of work and woe,
I think of the joy of that new start
Where the load can never go.
But there are many we can't relieve
Whose joy is another's pain
Who haven't the faith to just believe
Or the hope of a life to gain.
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