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The Quitter
~Edgar A. Guest~
Fate handed the quitter a bump, and he
dropped;
The road seemed too rough to go, so he
stopped.
He thought of his hurt, and there came
to his mind
The easier path he was leaving behind.
Oh, it's all much too hard, said the
quitter right then;
I'll stop where I am and not try it
again.
He sat by the road and he made up his
tale
To tell when men asked why he happened
to fail.
A thousand excuses flew up to his
tongue,
And these on the thread of his story
he strung,
But the truth of the matter he didn't
admit;
He never once said, I was frightened
and quit.
Whenever the quitter sits down by the
road
And drops from the struggle to lighten
his load,
He can always recall to his own peace
of mind
A string of excuses for falling
behind;
But somehow or other he can't think of
one
Good reason for battling and going
right on.
Oh, when the bump comes and fate hands
you a jar,
Don't baby yourself, boy, whoever you
are;
Don't pity yourself and talk over your
woes;
Don't think up excuses for dodging the
blows.
But stick to the battle and see the
thing through.
And don't be a quitter, whatever you
do.
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