Lord, make me something like my dad: Give me a little of his will, That good old stubbornness he had That helped him up the hardest hill, Content to wait and work and fight, Believing always he was right. Lord, make me like my mother, too: Give me a little of her song; She laughed at life, and saw it through, And never clung to sorrow long, Yet watched a thousand islands fade For every port she ever made. Lord, make me strong and make me glad, With hands to work and heart to sing, In all my labor like my dad, And yet like her in ev'rything -- With changeless smile and changeless oath, Lord, make me something like them both. |