w te trek h. Grubedl; 0.5.M. C, 6-25-way Fred US راس THE FIGHTER If life were all easy, we should degenerate into weaklingsinto human mush. It is the fighting spirit that makes us strong. Nor do any of us lack for a chance to exercise this spirit. Struggle is everywhere; as Kearny said at Fair Oaks, “There is lovely fighting along the whole line.” I E FIGHT a battle every day Against discouragement and fear; The path ahead is never clear ! Against the doubts that skulk along; But fighting keeps my spirit strong. I hear the croakings of Despair, The dark predictions of the weak; No matter what the end I seek; It matters not how hard I strive; But fighting keeps my hopes alive. My plans are wrecked by Fate or Luck; But that great hour has never struck; I've had to climb and crawl and swim, But I have kept in fighting trim. And be on guard against my fears; Has been familiar through the years; But fighting keeps my spirit strong, S: E. Kiser. TO YOUTH AFTER PAIN WHAT Since pain is the lot of all, we cannot hope to escape it. Since only through pain can we come into true and helpful sympathy with men, we should not wish to escape it. THAT if this year has given Grief that some year must bring, Crippled your laughter's wing? Coming to all, to you, Now it is done, come through. Even if you have sinned, And the healing veil of the wind ... A little of hurt and pain, dreams Now, where it laughed and passed, One with them all at last, You shall have back your song, Margaret Widdemer. a CAN'T A great, achieving soul will not clog itself with a cowardly thought or a cowardly watchword. Cardinal Richelieu in BulwerLytton's play declares: "In the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves As 'fail. "Impossible," Napoleon is quoted as saying, “is a word found only in the dictionary of fools." YAN’T is the worst word that's written or spoken; Doing more harm here than slander and lies; On it is many a strong spirit broken, And with it many a good purpose dies. It springs from the lips of the thoughtless each morning And robs us of courage we need through the day: It rings in our ears like a timely-sent warning And laughs when we falter and fall by the way. Can't is the father of feeble endeavor, The parent of terror and half-hearted work; It weakens the efforts of artisans clever, And makes of the toiler an indolent shirk. It stifles in infancy many a plan; And mocks at the hopes and the dreams of a man. Can't is a word none should speak without blushing; To utter it should be a symbol of shame; Ambition and courage it daily is crushing; It blights a man's purpose and shortens his aim. Despise it with all of your hatred of error; Refuse it the lodgment it seeks in your brain; Arm against it as a creature of terror, And all that you dream of you some day shall gain. |