If every heart that you loved proved true,
And never a friendship seared;
If there were no troubles to fret your soul,
You never would struggle to gain your goal.
It ‘a trouble that makes you and proves your worth,
It’s trouble that spurs you to better things.
It isn’t the man with the joys of earth
Who courage and strength to his duty brings;
But the man who bends ‘neath a burden great
Is the man who wins in the fight with fate.
It’s something to work for, a debt to pay,
A place to gain that a young man needs;
The difficulties that line the way
Are really the mothers of splendid deeds.
The man with something he hopes to do
Is the man who toils with a purpose true.