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And we did it...



Aug 11, 2003
2,724
The Open Market
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done
But we with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but we would be those
Who wouldn’t say so till we’d tried.
So we buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On our face. If we worried we hid it.
We started to sing as we tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and we did it!

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it;”
But we took off our coats and we took off our hats
And the first thing we knew we’d begun it.
With a lift of our chins and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
We started to sing as we tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and we did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure,
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.
 


The Sock of Poskett

The best is yet to come (spoiler alert)
Jun 12, 2009
2,802
Dr Seuss? Quality :thumbsup:
 






lawros left foot

Glory hunting since 1969
Jun 11, 2011
13,673
Worthing
If—




IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
 





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