Men who adopt the profession of arms
submit their own free will
to a law of perpetual constraints
of their own accord.
They resist their right
to live where they choose,
to say what they think,
to dress as they like.
It needs but an order
to settle them from their families
and dislocate their normal lives.
In the world of commands,
they must rise, march,
run, endure bad weather,
and go out without sleep or food,
be isolated in some distant post,
work until they drop.
They have ceased to become
masters of their own fate.
If they drop on their tracks,
their ashes shall be scattered
in the four winds,
that is all part and parcel of their job.
When things go wrong as they sometimes will
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile but you have to sigh
When the world is pressing you down a bit
Rest if you must but don’t you quit
Life is queer with its twists and turns
As everyone of us sometimes learns
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out
Don’t give though the pace seems slow
You may succeed with another blow
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor’s cup
And he learned too late when the night slipped down
How close he was to the golden crown
Success is failure turned inside out
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt
And can never tell how close you are
You maybe near when it seems too far
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit
It’s when things are worst that you mustn’t quit
Note: Don’t Quit is suited for what everyone seems to be experiencing now. Rest if you must, but don’t you quit. Retreat but don’t give up.
And, yes, as you can see the site’s reminders section, tomorrow is the end of my happy days, cause tomorrow’s the start of our beast barracks. (T_T) Among our compliances are the memorization of those two written above, a textmate (for me), and rosary book (for me also).