Lo, to the battle-ground of Life,
Child, you have come, like a conquering shout,
Out of a struggle?into strife;
Out of a darkness?into doubt.
Girt with the fragile armor of youth,
Child, you must ride into endless wars,
With the sword of protest, the buckler of truth,
And a banner of love to sweep the stars.
About you the world's despair will surge;
Into defeat you must plunge and grope.
Be to the faltering an urge;
Be to the hopeless years a hope!
Be to the darkened world a flame;
Be to its unconcern a blow?
For out of its pain and tumult you came,
And into its tumult and pain you go.