I Shall
I shall climb the steep steps
And bridge those yawning gaps
Till they connect the broken tendons of luck,
And unite the copious gifts of Providence;
Then it shall cease the itch upon my back
And the cloud of sorrow so dense
Shall break to smithereens and themselves tuck
Behind the hopeful curtains of beneficence.
I shall never agree to turn back
Though the terrain be rough;
I shall never for a moment cease to try
Despite my yelps and cry.
Help me Father to always try
Even when winds of fate oppose;
Give me to joyfully execute my chores
Even when times get lean and dry.
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