Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Posts From the Road - The Quitter

When you're lost in the Wild,
and you're scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
 And you're sore as a boil,
it's according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow . . .
It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.
"You're sick of the game!"
Well, now, that's a shame.
You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
 "You've had a raw deal!" I
 know -- but don't squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
 It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
 So don't be a piker, old pard!
 Just draw on your grit;
 it's so easy to quit:
 It's the keeping-your-chin-up that's hard.
 It's easy to cry that you're beaten -- and die;
 It's easy to crawfish and crawl;
 But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight --
Why, that's the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each grueling bout,
 All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try -- it's dead easy to die,
It's the keeping-on-living that's hard.
 - Robert W.  Service

15 comments:

Rev. Paul said...

Easily once of his best. Thanks!

Erin Palette said...

This came at just the right time, since mom has her surgery today.

Thanks for the uplifting words, Brigid. *HUGS*

Pink said...

LOVE the pic.....after my No. 1 rule of ALWAYS have a gun, my No. 2 rule is ALWAYS have a reload.

Doom said...

I am not sure this would have helped me through some much earlier times, but I sure enjoy, believe, and co-sponsor, this bill now. Even right through a slightly local blue period. Of course, something about Queen and bikes works too. :p

Monkeywrangler said...

Mr. Service, eh? I had guessed Kipling...

Vic303

Old Fighting-Men

All the world over, nursing their scars,
Sit the old fighting-men broke in the wars--
Sit the old fighting-men, surly and grim
Mocking the lilt of the conquerors' hymn.

Dust of the battle o'erwhelmed them and hid.
Fame never found them for aught that they did.
Wounded and spent to the lazar they drew,
Lining the road where the Legions roll through.

Sons of the Laurel who press to your meed,
(Worthy God's pity most--you who succeed!)
Ere you go triumphing, crowned, to the stars,
Pity poor fighting-men, broke in the wars!
Rudyard Kipling :

James said...

As a young man I read Service and dreamed of high adventure in the Great North. Sigh...... Didn't quite work out that way! Still it can get a little hairy at the local Walmart.

Old NFO said...

Something we ALL need to remember, especially now...

Well Seasoned Fool said...

Picture going round Facebook of a four year old in cowboy gear with a scowling face. Captioned: "Cowboy up, or go cry in the pickup".

Teach them at an early age.

Blue said...

:)

Andie said...

Thank you for a wonderful introduction to Mr. Service! I am struggling, right now, with some personal issues, and this was just what the doctor ordered. :)

Troy said...

Great post, and who made the holster for that pretty S&W?

Troy said...

Great post...and who made the holster for that S&W?

Troy said...

Great post, and who made the holster for that pretty S&W?

Brigid said...

Troy - That particular S and W isn't mine, belongs to a pal. I have more of the reddish/burgundy holsters you see in the posts. I'm not sure where that holster came from.

Brigid said...

Erin - I'm glad you saw it. I thought of you and your Mom and her surgery when I posted it.

James - I took a few months off, rented a plane and spent some time WAY up north, well north of the Arctic circle. Good adventures if tame by his generation's standpoint.

Well Seasoned Fool - exactly, there was NO whining allowed when we were little. That got you NO where.

Old NFO - Hang in there.

Andie - I hope whatever is troubling you passes quickly.

Vic - a great selection!