There's always a river to cross,
Always an effort to make,
If there's anything good to win,
Any rich prize to take.
Yonder's the fruit we crave;
Yonder the charming scene;
But deep and wide, with a troubled tide,
Is the river that lies between.
For rougher the way that we take,
The stouter the heart and the nerve;
The stones in our path we break;
Nor e'er from our impulse swerve;
For the glory we hope to win
Our labours we count no loss;
'Tis folly to pause and murmur because
Of the river we have to cross.
- Anonymous
