Edmund Vance Cooke

But maybe prayer is a road to rise,
A mountain path leading toward the skies
To assist read more

But maybe prayer is a road to rise,
A mountain path leading toward the skies
To assist the spirit who truly tries.
But it isn't a shibboleth, creed, nor code,
It isn't a pack-horse to carry your load,
It isn't a wagon, it's only a road.
And perhaps the reward of the spirit who tries
Is not the goal, but the exercise!

Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
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Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
Lincoln and Grant and Lee;
Back of the boy is Jackson,
Jackson and Tippecanoe,
Back of each son is Washington,
And the old red, white and blue!

You may batter your way through the thick of the fray,
You may sweat, you may swear, you may read more

You may batter your way through the thick of the fray,
You may sweat, you may swear, you may grunt;
You may be a jack-fool, if you must, but this rule
Should ever be kept at the front;--
Don't fight with your pillow, but lay down your head
And kick every worriment out of the bed.

So you tell yourself you are pretty find clay
To have tricked temptation and turned it away,
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So you tell yourself you are pretty find clay
To have tricked temptation and turned it away,
But wait, my friend, for a different day;
Wait till you want to want to!

Kisses kept are wasted;
Love is to be tasted.
There are some you love, I know;
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Kisses kept are wasted;
Love is to be tasted.
There are some you love, I know;
Be not loath to tell them so.
Lips go dry and eyes grow wet
Waiting to be warmly met,
Keep them not in waiting yet;
Kisses kept are wasted.