---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - C. H. Carroll and Franklin Madsen
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 24
number: 4
published: 1921-02
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'C. H. Carroll and Franklin Madsen, "Our M. I. A.," *Improvement Era* 24, no. 4 (February 1921): 346–347.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2404unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera2404unse
start_page: 346
end_page: 347
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1921-02)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2404unse
  publication_year: 1921
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1921, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Our M. I. A.

<!-- page:346 -->

Our M. I. A.
Words by Mrs. C. H. Carroll.                                                Music by Franklin Madsen.

        With fervent vigor.

  1.     Where the grand                     old snow-crowned mountains                                      Lift        their

 2.      With Im - prove - ment                         for          our         watchword;                  And with
 3.      Songs     of          pur       -    i    -    ty           and             hon   -    or;          Songs          of

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         shining summits                     high;               Where the            pla      -       cid       U - tah
         mutual help to                       all;               With the              Gos         -    pel's guid-ing

         love and brother            -       hood;           Songs of                faith             and   hope         and

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          waters        Mir - ror                      back the sun-lit                        sky              Where the
          mottoes,        Blessed            Truth shall nev - er                              fall.            Fling our
          val - or; Goals for                     which our fathers                        stood.               Let       our
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<!-- page:347 -->

OUR M. I. A.                                        347

               4
valley's      rippling streamlets Murmur     sweetly        all   the    day;
banners       on the      breezes! Beacons   to the world, they'll sway,

clarion sound Improvement, Herald            forth a       bet - ter     day,

                              -(2—
                   -fcn

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  JBif                                           a tempo

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That is wnere young hearts are ea-ger For the                M.     I.     A.
Sing our songs o'er hills and val-leys, Glorious M.                 I.     A.
Till     the world shall bow in      homage To our          M.      I.     A.

m^mMMWM^wsi^m
                   The Garden of Souls';
         In God's soul garden, by command,
         An angel, at the vesper hour,
         Disconsolate, with trembling hand,
         Plucked there a little tender flower.
         Exultantly the choirs above
         Great anthems raised, in sweet refrain,
         As that choice sovil of grace and love,
         Clasped hands with kin and friends again.
         But heaven beheld earth's harp unstrung
         A mother's heart bruised, torn and chill
         The joyous strains ceased to be sung
         Some marvelled at the Master's will,
         When lo, a soft, sweet voice was heard:
         "List, children, this be your repose:
         All life is mine," came the soft word,
         "I know when best to pluck the rose."
                                      Octave F. Ursenbach.