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FORWARD 119
FOR A CHARITY FAIR
(IN A COPY OF MINOR PIECES)
eee eS Sree
Some poor man in need
To bless and to feed,
I bring at its worth,
This day of my birth,
A book,—from my youth I must own.
But Who in His power
Gave bud and gave flower,
To bread can transform
In want’s winter-storm
Each leaf that my Springtime has grown.
FORWARD
“ Forwarp! forward!”
Rang our fathers’ battle-cry.
“ Forward! forward!”
Norsemen, be our watchword high!
All that fires the spirit and makes the heart’s faith bright,
For that we forward go with might
And faithful fight.
“ Forward! forward!”
Whaoso loves a home that’s free.
“ Forward! forward!”
Freedom’s course must ever be.
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