The Quitter When youre lost in the Wild, and youre scared as a child, And Death looks you bang in the eye, And youre sore as a boil, its according to Hoyle To cock your revolver and . . . die. But the Code of a Man says: Fight all you can, And self-dissolution is barred. In hunger and woe, oh, its easy to blow . . . Its the hell-served-for-breakfast thats hard. Youre sick of the game! Well, now, thats a shame. Youre young and youre brave and youre bright. Youve had a raw deal! I know -- but dont squeal, Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight. Its the plugging away that will win you the day, So dont be a piker, old pard! Just draw on your grit; its so easy to quit: Its the keeping-your-chin-up thats hard. Its easy to cry that youre beaten -- and die; Its easy to crawfish and crawl; But to fight and to fight when hopes out of sight -- Why, thats the best game of them all! And though you come out of each gruelling bout, All broken and beaten and scarred, Just have one more try -- its dead easy to die, Its the keeping-on-living thats hard.
Posted on: Thu, 24 Oct 2013 12:22:44 +0000
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