 | Last poems including Afterglow and Beyond the sunset |  |
3
“O STRONG YOUNG RUNNER”
O strong young runner in the race of life
Rush not too madly toward the shining goal!
Command thou first the forces of thy soul,
Then gird thy loins up for the utmost strife.
Know thou thyself, nor heed the drum and fife
That light feet follow blithely to their dole;
Yet cower thou not when storm-clouds darkly roll
And biting frosts are cruel as the knife.
Rush not too madly toward the shining goal!
Command thou first the forces of thy soul,
Then gird thy loins up for the utmost strife.
Know thou thyself, nor heed the drum and fife
That light feet follow blithely to their dole;
Yet cower thou not when storm-clouds darkly roll
And biting frosts are cruel as the knife.
Fight, if the God of Battles bids thee fight,—
Yet to thine helm make fast the dove's white wing;
Cherish thy dreams, but keep thine armor bright;
Pray, till thy prayers make heaven's high arches ring;
Speak, if the words be thine, for truth and right;
Sing, if the God within thee bids thee sing!
Yet to thine helm make fast the dove's white wing;
Cherish thy dreams, but keep thine armor bright;
Pray, till thy prayers make heaven's high arches ring;
Speak, if the words be thine, for truth and right;
Sing, if the God within thee bids thee sing!
October 20, 1912.
| Last poems including Afterglow and Beyond the sunset | |