Love is patient, love is kind....

Dawna, it's from the Bible:

[www.romanceclass.com] />

Les

There was a poem I remember reading about a race...the runner falls far behind but finishes the race last, the crowd cheers for his effort.

It is really about determination, not giving up, etc. It was quite lengthy, I thought it was called 'The Race', but haven't been able to locate it....

Dan--This is part of a longer poem, and deals with a race...


A Shropshire Lad: XIX
To an Athlete Dying Young

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.

Thanks for moving these, Stephen.


Les

Dan


"The Race!

"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"
They shout at me and plead.
"There's just too much against you now;
This time you can't succeed!"

And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure's face,
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race

And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene;
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuventates my being.


A children's race- young boy, young men,
How I remember well.
Excitement, sure! But also fear;
It wasn't hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope
Each thought to win that race.
Or tie for first, or if not that,
At least take second place.

And fathers watched from off the side
Each cheering for his son.
And each boy hoped to show his dad
That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went
Young hearts and hopes afire.
To win and be the hero there
Was each young boy's desire

And one boy in particular
Whose dad was in the crowd
Was running near the lead and thought:
"My dad will be so proud!"

But as he speeded down the field
Across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win
Lost his step and slipped

Trying hard to catch himself "Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"
They shout at me and plead.
"There's just too much against you now;
This time you can't succeed!"

So down he fell and with him hope
-He couldn't win now-
Embarrassed, sad he only wished
To disappear somehow...

But as he fell his dad stood up
And showed his anxious face,
Which to the boy so clearly said:
"Get up and win the race!"

He quickly rose, no damage done
-Behind a bit, that's all-
And ran with all his mind and might
To make up for his fall

So anxious to restore himself
-To catch up and to win-
His mind went faster than his legs;
He slipped and fell again!

He wished then he had quit before
With only one disgrace
"I'm hopeless as a runner now;
I shouldn't try to race."

But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his father's face;
That steady look which said again:
"Get up and win the race!"

So he jumped up to try again
-Ten yards behind the last-
"If I'm to gain those yards," he thought,
"I've got to move real fast."

Exerting everything he had
He gained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead
He slipped and fell again!

Defeat! He lied there silently
-A tear dropped from his eye-
"There's no sense in running anymore:
Three strikes: I'm out! Why try?"

The will to rise had disappeared;
All hope had fled away;
So far behind, so error-prone:
A loser all the way.

"I've lost, so what's the use," he thought
"I'll live with my disgrace."
But then he thought about his dad
Who soon he'd have to face.

"Get up," an echo sounded low.
"Get up and take your place;
You were not meant for failure here.
Get up and win the race."

"With borrowed will get up," it said,
You haven't lost at all.
For winning is no more than this:
To rise each time you fall."

So up he rose to run once more,
And with new commit
He resolved that win or lose
At least he wouldn't quit/

So far behind the others now,
-The most he'd ever been-
Still he gave it all he had
And ran as though to win

Three times he'd fallen, stumbling;
Three times he rose again:
Too far behind to hope to win
He still ran to the end.

They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed the line first place.
Head high, and proud, and happy;
No falling, no disgrace.

But when the fallen youngster
Crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer,
For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he'd won the race
To listen to the crowd.

And to his dad he sadly said,
"I didn't do too well."
"To me, you won," his father said.
"You rose each time you fell."

And when things seem dark and hard
And difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy
Helps me in my race.

For all of life is like that race.
With ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win,
Is rise each time you fall.

"Quit! Give up, you're beaten!"
They still shout in my face.
But another voice within me says:
"GET UP AND WIN THE RACE!"



Is this it?


Jack

is that poem published anywhere? I want to do it as a project for school but can't find it in a book anyone know where I could get one?

katleen, learn how to cut and paste. Ask your little brother, he probably learned it in school.


Les

LG what do you mean? I don't get it....
"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"
They shout at me and plead.
"There's just too much against you now;
This time you can't succeed!"

And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure's face,
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race...."

better? does anyone know where that is published?

Do you mean elsewhere than on the page above your posts? Click on Flat View to see the whole page instead of the various threads.

Try Google, for example. Click on the link below:

[tinyurl.com] />
If you absolutely MUST have it in a book, try , or one of the many, many online book dealers.

Did I miss something?

Les

p.s. Rudy, why isn't "flat view" the default?

Because some of us like 'Threaded View' better?

pam

I believe Flat is the default on the USP and Threaded on the others, but don't quote me.

Hi there,
I was looking for this poem myself but I couldn't find the book on my bookshelf. I'm not sure if you still need to know where you can find a copy of the poem 'The Race' but I do know that there is a copy in the book-
Chicken soup for the soul - By Jack Canfield I think that's his name. Or its in their second book which is called, a second serving of chicken soup for the soul.
Hope you find it somewhere!
From SonjaHugh Clary wrote:

I believe Flat is the default on the USP and Threaded on the
others, but don't quote me.