I'd rather have one fighting man
Than armies of the ilk
Who sit around and wish that life
Were always soft as silk.
I'd rather have one planning man,
Outfitted with a scheme,
Than ten who go as aimlessly
As phantoms in a dream.
I'd rather have one action man
Than ten who trust to fate,
Who find a sheltered place to sit,
The while they wait and wait.
I'd rather have one happy man
Than all the men who sigh
At opportunities they see
Forever passing by.
I'd rather have one working man
Than laggards by the score;
Who dawdle on the rugged path
Where toilers go before.
Yes, give me just this type of man
And I will let you take
The legion of the men who moan
They never had a break.
He'll take the task that can't be done,
And DO it, while they preach
About the hopelessness of things
That lie beyond the reach.
He'll raise the torch of enterprise
Above the timorous souls
And show the world the way to rise
To distant shining goals.
He'll get the iron hot himself
And when it's glowing, strike!
He'll make the world the kind of place
That spineless men would like!
(Copyright, 1940)
No comments:
Post a Comment