From my diary of July, 1955

This poem is from Poerty Book of Class XI (First year after Matriculation).

We are not here to play, to draw to drift                                                                                     

We have hard work to do and loads to lift

Shun not the struggle, face it, it’s God’s gift.

Say not the days are evil— who’s to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce— O shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God’s Name.

It matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day, how long;
Faint not, fight on! Tomorrow comes the song.

(Maltbie D. Babcock in “Thoughts for Everyday Living”, 1858-1901 A.D.)


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