Carry On
It's easy to fight when everything's right, And you're mad with the thrill and the glory; It's easy to cheer when victory's near, And wallow in fields that are gory. It's a different song when everything's wrong, When you're feeling infernally mortal; When it's ten against one, and hope there is none, Buck up, little soldier, and chortle: Carry on! Carry on! There isn't much punch in your blow. You're glaring and staring and hitting out blind; You're muddy and bloody, but never you mind. Carry on! Carry on! You haven't the ghost of a show. It's looking like death, but while you've a breath, Carry on, my son! Carry on! And so in the strife of the battle of life It's easy to fight when you're winning; It's easy to slave, and starve and be brave, When the dawn of success is beginning. But the man who can meet despair and defeat With a cheer, there's the man of God...