I will drink, athirst and whelmed with woe,
The brine of tears naught could appease—
Yea, undismayed I will drain the draught
And break the cup at the bitter lees.
The brine of tears naught could appease—
Yea, undismayed I will drain the draught
And break the cup at the bitter lees.
I will bear my cross up Calvary's mount
Where Sorrow sits with barbs and scars,
But the summit gained, I will lift mine eyes
Beyond the cross to the steadfast stars.
Where Sorrow sits with barbs and scars,
But the summit gained, I will lift mine eyes
Beyond the cross to the steadfast stars.
And this I will do through a pride of race,
For clean red blood with its instincts high;
Who whimpers and grovels 'neath whips of fate
Shames the heritage proud of ancestry.
For clean red blood with its instincts high;
Who whimpers and grovels 'neath whips of fate
Shames the heritage proud of ancestry.
For the crucial test of a man is pain
Of body or soul, which e'er it be;
The coward's brood quails, but he who is sired
Of faith and courage fights valiantly.
Of body or soul, which e'er it be;
The coward's brood quails, but he who is sired
Of faith and courage fights valiantly.
FREE AGENTS
IT is with us to choose—
The path
That runs through lush of bloom that grows
(In stress of passing days)
To fruits forbidden; or the stony track
Down which no scented zephyr blows.
There is no road between.
The path
That runs through lush of bloom that grows
(In stress of passing days)
To fruits forbidden; or the stony track
Down which no scented zephyr blows.
There is no road between.
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