OPPORTUNITY.
Reading edition
They do me wrong who say I come no more When once I knock and fail to find you in; For every day I stand outside your door, And bid you wake and rise to fight and win. Wail not for precious chances passed away, Weep not for golden ages on the wane; Each night I burn the records of the day, At sunrise every soul is born again. Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep; I lend an arm to all who say: “I can.” No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep But he might rise and be again a man. —Walter Malone.
A Graduate of the University of Chicago, 1916
