Let the feeble-hearted pine,
Let the sickly spirit whine,
But work and win be thine,
While you've life.
God smiles upon the bold--
So, when your flag's unrolled,
Bear it bravely till you're cold
In the strife.
If to rank or fame you soar,
Out your spirit frankly pour--
Men will serve you and adore,
Like a king.
Woo your girl with honest pride,
Till you've won her for your bride--
Then to her, through time and tide,
Never under wrongs despair;
Labour long, and everywhere,
Link your countrymen, prepare,
And strike home.
Thus have great men ever wrought,
Thus must greatness still be sought,
Thus laboured, loved, and fought
Greece and Rome.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem