For every hill I’ve had to climb,
For every stone that bruised my feet,
For all the blood, sweat and grime,
For blinding storms and burning heat,
My heart sings but a grateful song,
These were the things that made me strong.

For all the heartaches and tears,
For all the anguish and pain,
For all gloomy days and fruitless years,
And for all hopes that lived in vain,
I do give thanks, for now I know
These were the things that helped me grow.

‘Tis not the softer things in life,
Which stimulate one’s will to strive,
But bleak adversity and strife,
Do most to keep one’s will alive…
O’er rose-strewn paths the weaklings creep,
But brave hearts dare to climb the steep.