Lo -- to the battle-ground of Life, Child, you have come, like a conquering shout, Out of a struggle -- into strife; Out of a darkness -- into doubt. Girt with the fragile armor of Youth, Child, you must ride into endless wars, With the sword of protest, the buckler of truth, And a banner of love to sweep the stars. . . . About you the world's despair will surge; Into defeat you must plunge and grope -- Be to the faltering, an urge; Be to the hopeless years, a hope! Be to the darkened world a flame; Be to its unconcern a blow -- For out of its pain and tumult you came, And into its tumult and pain you go. |