Part 37 (1/2)

And--a seventh time?

”This is beyond all battles' soreness!”

Then his wonder cried; For Laughter, with s.h.i.+eld and steely harness, Stood up at his side!

_William Rose Benet,_

From ”Merchants from Cathay.”

SUBMISSION

There are times when the right thing to do is to submit. There are times when the right thing is to strive, to fight. To put forth one's best effort is itself a reward. But sometimes it brings a material reward also. The frog that after falling into the churn found that it couldn't jump out and wouldn't try, was drowned. The frog that kept leaping in brave but seemingly hopeless endeavor at last churned the milk, mounted the b.u.t.ter for a final effort, and escaped.

Submission? They have preached at that so long.

As though the head bowed down would right the wrong, As though the folded hand, the coward heart Were saintly signs of souls sublimely strong; As though the man who acts the waiting part And but submits, had little wings a-start.

But may I never reach that anguished plight Where I at last grow weary of the fight.

Submission: ”Wrong of course must ever be Because it ever was. 'Tis not for me To seek a change; to strike the maiden blow.

'Tis best to bow the head and not to see; 'Tis best to dream, that we need never know The truth. To turn our eyes away from woe.”

Perhaps. But ah--I pray for keener sight, And may I not grow weary of the fight.

_Miriam Teichner._

A PRAYER

Garibaldi, the Italian patriot, said to his men: ”I do not promise you ease; I do not promise you comfort. I promise you hards.h.i.+p, weariness, suffering; but I promise you victory.”

I do not pray for peace, Nor ask that on my path The sounds of war shall shrill no more, The way be clear of wrath.

But this I beg thee, Lord, Steel Thou my heart with might, And in the strife that men call life, Grant me the strength to fight.

I do not pray for arms, Nor s.h.i.+eld to cover me.

What though I stand with empty hand, So it be valiantly!

Spare me the coward's fear-- Questioning wrong or right: Lord, among these mine enemies, Grant me the strength to fight.

I do not pray that Thou Keep me from any wound, Though I fall low from thrust and blow, Forced fighting to the ground; But give me wit to hide My hurt from all men's sight, And for my need the while I bleed, Lord, grant me strength to fight.