Select Poetry.

Thames Star, Volume XVII, Issue 5143, 11 July 1885, Page 1

Select Poetry.

" GEIT."

Some call it luck, dear brother Jim,

Some term it common sense; While others still with equal vim

Pronounce it Providence. But I believe, in spite of all, Fate, Pj^Ljence, or wit, Bull-head^Hck or brazen gall, Its prbjHpia'me is " grit."

'Tis well for those, dear brother. Jim, With tijne and cash to spare,. To lift their hearts and hands to Him In everlasting prayer. But prayers alone won't win the fig"ht, In spite of holy writ: 'Tis acts that tell, or wrong or right, And actions call for " grit."

I've seen in trial tests of speed The horse that' balks or breaks,. Although he sometimes takes the lead, He never takes the stakes. , ; While "sure-an-stcady-on-the-strid©,": * ' Though slower on the.bit, '4Is often on the winning side ; Becauso he's got tho ".grit."

I've seen some fellows in my time, Good, noble men and strong, With hearts less human than divine, Who couldn't get along. No matter where yon placed them, Jim, They didn't seem to fit; They couldn't win or sink or swim; They didn't have the " grit."

Amid the countless ills of life. Its pleasures and its woos, The strongest factors in the strife. Are steady licks and blows ; And though we may not always win We never will submit; But still wade in, dear brother Jim, And die like.inon of " grit."

—American Paper