The battle is not to the mighty,
Nor the race to the fleet of foot,
The peak is not reached by bounding,
Nor the goal by a devious route;
The problems of science and culture
Have been ages upon the way;
The greatest vict'ries 'mong nations
Have not been won in a day.
'Tis the steady tramping onward
Of feet that will not turn aside
From the path they are pursuing,
That wins at the eventide.
'Tis the firm determination
Of a strong and unyielding will,
Moved on by gigantic action
Of forces that cannot be still,
That has won the greatest honors
'Mong nations whose moral power
Have lighted liberty's beacon
In despondency's darkest hour.
The mind that is sometimes darkest
When it struggles for light and power,
Breaks off the bands of thraldom
And itself like some strong tower,
Becomes the bulwark of nations
In defense of some sacred cause
That looks toward the world's advancement,
Through reign of beneficent laws.