--opportunity--

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!







Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell;

Art thou a sinner? Sins may be forgiven;

Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell,

Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven.







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 my arm to all who say "I can!"

No shame-faced outcast ever sank so deep

But yet might rise and be again a man!

by walter malone ,,