Fight ever on: this earthly stuff If used God’s way will be enough. Face to the firing line o friend Fight out life’s battle to the end. One soldier, when the fight was red, Threw down his broken sword and fled. Another snatched it, won the day, With what his comrade flung away.

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, the emptiness of ages in his face, and on his back the burden of the world.

At the heart of the cyclone tearing the sky is a place of central calm.

Choices are the hinges of destiny.

Yes, take a little time to play And look at life the other way. God rested when the world was made: Rest now, old friend; be not afraid. But think not that your work is over, That you are now a foot-free rover, A rambler upon idle ways, Whittling away the golden days. For in the road climb to the goal There's no long furlough for a soul. There's no long pause: on every height Another summit swims in sight. The long road rises, scene by scene, With little restings in between.

Ah, great it is to believe the dream as we stand in youth by the starry stream; But a greater thing is to fight life through, and at the end, 'The dream is true!'

Defeat may serve as well as victory to shake the soul and let the glory out.