The Calling by Grantland Rice
We know how rough the road will be,
How heavy here the load will be,
We know about the barricades that wait along the
track;
But we have set our soul ahead
Upon a certain goal ahead
And nothing left from Hell to sky shall ever turn
us back.
We know how brief all fame must be,
We know how crude the game must be,
We know how soon the cheering turns to jeering
down the block;
But there's a deeper feeling here
That Fate can't scatter reeling here,
In knowing we have battled with the final ounce
in stock.
We sing of no wild glory now,
Emblazoning some story now
Of mighty charges down the field beyond some
guarded pit;
But humbler tasks befalling us,
Set duties that are calling us,
Where nothing left from Hell to sky shall ever
make us quit.
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