Don't give up, what've you do; eyes front, head high to the finish. See it through!

At Christmas A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year; He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here; Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before, And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for. He is less a selfish creature than at any other time; When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime.

The man who wants a garden fair, or small or very big, With flowers growing here and there, Must bend his back and dig. The things are mighty few on earth That wishes can attain. Whate'er we want of any worth We've got to work to gain. It matters not what goal you seek, It's secret here reposes: You've got to dig from week to week To get Results or Roses.

Courage must come from the soul within; the man must furnish the will to win. So figure it out for yourself, my lad. You were born with all that the great have had.

Now seeds are just dimes to the man in the store And the dimes are the things that he needs, And I've been to buy them in seasons before But have thought of them merely as seeds; But it flashed through my mind as I took them this time, "You purchased a miracle here for a dime."

Don't give up, what've you do; eyes front, head high to the finish. See it through!

I have to live with myself and so, I want to be fit for myself to know.