Tarry to the top
Travel the lots of few
Taught by the white headed
Who have been to the top
Shout daily at the door
That
On your way to the top
You must tarry
Lucky was I
On the front of my story
Fast it seems
For all who wins
Now
Slow it seems
In all that I do
Tempted to do
The bad
The ugly
To rise to the top
Then the call
Tarry you must tarry
On your way to the top
Time is set
For your joy to be full
Look no right
Look no left
Tarry
Again I say Tarry
That is the line
That takes you to the top
Not the line
That brings you down
Tarry to the top
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem