It Can Be Done.

Almost four years ago, I posted this about a volume of poetry that dates from the 1920s: "Fate only picks on the cowards and quitters, So give 'em both barrels--and aim for the eyes." I've been struggling with health and other issues lately (headed to the doctor again today), so I pulled down It Can Be Done again last night to peruse its pages. As I wrote then:

And finally, I think, my favorite of them all. I vividly recall Bob Wright's recitation of this poem of Grantland Rice's, entitled On Down the Road, at a militia FTX campfire back in 90s out at "Fort Stinking Desert," New Mexico. I knew it, of course, but nobody can recite it like Bob.

 Hold to the course, though the storms are about you;
    Stick to the road where the banner still flies;
    Fate and his legions are ready to rout you--
    Give 'em both barrels--and aim for their eyes.

    Life's not a rose bed, a dream or a bubble,
    A living in clover beneath cloudless skies;
    And Fate hates a fighter who's looking for trouble,
    So give 'im both barrels--and shoot for the eyes.

    Fame never comes to the loafers and sitters,
    Life's full of knots in a shifting disguise;
    Fate only picks on the cowards and quitters,
    So give 'em both barrels--and aim for the eyes.

    -- Grantland Rice, From "The Sportlight."