Talk happiness. The world is sad enough without your woe. No path is wholly rough.

And however dark the skies may appear, And however souls may blunder, I tell you it all will work out clear, For good lies over and under.

All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon the sand.

Talk happiness. The world is sad enough without your woe. No path is wholly rough.

I know there are no errors, In the great Eternal plan.

We ought to make the moments notes Of happy glad Thanksgiving; The hours and days, a silent praise Of music we are living.

And so for me there is no sting of death, And so the grave has lost its victory. It is but crossing-with abated breath And white, set face-a little strip of sea To find the loved ones waiting on the shore, More beautiful, more precious than before.