It’s sad to come to the end of the trail,
When your sun is setting low,
And your journey’s end is just beyond,
Not many miles more to go.
Oh, it’s sad, I say, if you find too late,
As toward the west your journey ends,
That you’ve missed the joy you might have known,
In making and keeping friends.
We toil for loved ones, day by day,
We give of our hard earned store,
We laugh or sigh down the sunlit way,
Till the journey is almost o’er,
Then perchance we pause and some to know,
What it means when journey ends,
We have lived in vain if we do not know,
What it means to call folks friends.
It’s good to feel a real friend cares,
It’s good to know they’re near,
When sorrow comes that we all must share,
How we prize a word of cheer,
Or the tender clasp of a true friend’s hand,
That understands our woe,
Will help to make that long way sweet,
As we all will come to know.
Oh, keep your friends, by being loyal,
And tell them you love them dear,
The time and place to call them friends,
Is the while you journey here,
Oh, the joy you’ll find, as the years go by,
Oh, the glory that comes to you,
In knowing you have a friend who cares
And you’ve earned by being true.
It’s not too late, though the shadows fall,
And your sun in the West is low,
Just a tender word or sunny smile,
Dropped here and there as you go.
And you’ll rejoice when the eve has come,
And you’ve reached the journey’s end,
That you can say I have kept the faith,
I have loved and known a friend.
Katherine Carey-Place 1878-1934
Copyright Roy Richard