It is better as it is: I have failed but I can sleep; Though the pit I now am in is very dark and deep I can walk to-morrow's streets and can meet to… - Edgar Guest

Oh, my shoulders grow aweary of the burdens I am bearin',
An' I grumble when I'm footsore at the rough road I am farin',
But I strap my knapsack tighter till I feel the leather bind me,
An' I'm glad to bear the burdens for the ones who come behind me.
It's for them that I am ploddin', for the children comin' after;
I would strew their path with roses and would fill their days with laughter.<p>Oh, there's selfishness within me, there are times it gets to talkin',
Times I hear it whisper to me, "It's a dusty road you're walkin';
Why not rest your feet a little; why not pause an' take your leisure?
Don't you hunger in your strivin' for the merry whirl of pleasure?" Then I turn an' see them smilin' an' I grip my burdens tighter,
For the joy that I am seekin' is to see their eyes grow brighter.

Strange thoughts come to the man alone;
'Tis then, if ever, he talks with God,
And views himself as a single clod
In the soil of life where the souls are grown.
'Tis then he questions the why and where,
The start and end of his years and days,
And what is blame and what is praise,
And what is ugly and what is fair.

I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have
been to me;
I'd like to be the help that you've been always
glad to be;
I'd like to mean as much to you each minute
of the day
as you have meant, old friend of mine, to me
along the way.