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.

Yellow, mellow, ripened days, Sheltered in a golden coating; O'er the dreamy, listless haze, White and dainty cloudlets floating; Winking at the blushing trees, And the sombre, furrowed fallow; Smiling at the airy ease, Of the southward flying swallow Sweet and smiling are thy ways, Beauteous, golden Autumn days.

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.

We thank Thee, O Father of all, for... all the soul-help that sad souls understand.

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.

Cover them over with beautiful flowers, Deck them with garlands, those brothers of ours, Lying so silent by night and by day Sleeping the years of their manhood away. Give them the meed they have won in the past; Give them the honors their future forcast; Give them the chaplets they won in the strife; Give them the laurels they lost with their life.

Cover them over with beautiful flowers, Deck them with garlands, those brothers of ours, Lying so silent by night and by day.