I think it were better that lips should forever be mute
Than flattering the voice should sound, or the speech irresolute.
And better that arrows fly far past the mark, over-shot,
Than but timidly sent they should droop and transfix it not.
The race should be vigorously pushed, though uneven the start,
And always, wherever assigned, let us act well the part,
Let firm be the footstep to tally with firm beat of heart.
But more willing am I forever to steadily plod,
Inspired by a thought that my soul is not linked to a clod,
Than failing in flight, to fall, stricken again to the sod,
And stumble along in the pathway that leads me to God.