Wise words from David V. Bush to help you discover how to get ahead. We often wonder how to get that promotion or how to be noticed at our work. This poem says it all.
The poem is also a good one to share at graduation to give the graduate words to help them succeed in life.
There's just one certain way to climb up to the top,
Where there's plenty of room to expand,
Where each thing's more congenial and not quite so menial,
With chances to think and command;
It is simple, yet not for the shirk or the drone
Whom the bonds of dull indolence fetter.
For the way to get there in foul weather or fair
Is to work just a little bit better!
There's promotion ahead — will the honor be yours,
Or be left for some "luckier" neighbor?
For it rests with just you what the future will do
To reward your industrious labor.
The man who mounts high, leaving others behind,
Must be never a whiner or fretter;
For we don't reach the goal with a sorrowful soul,
But by working a little bit better!
There is work you can do, and how well it is done
Is for you and you only to say;
But who does it the best will stand first in the test
That leads on to the bright better way.
So buckle right down to outdo your own past,
And each moment toil square to the letter;
For the prize-winning man sticks to one golden plan,
And works just a little bit better!
Your brow may never bear a crown
Of laurel, gems, or gold,
Because the thought which you have wrought
Some other may unfold;
But though your brief endeavors here
Invisible may seem.
With forward sight begin aright
The castle of your dream.
The hand of time may lay you low
Before you sing your song.
But what your heart has wished to start
Some day will move the throng;
The picture that you've longed to paint,
Though lingering in your brain,
Your son's skilled eye may vivify,
And turn to lasting gain.
The joy that you would bring to man
With love and sympathy.
The restful calm and healing balm,
May great though silent be.
And if through toil your tongue be mute,
If weary ages chill.
Your soul may yet seme joy beget.
And wake a helpful thrill.
Perchance your kindly thoughts ne'er seem
To serve a noble cause;
Yet what you say lights some man's way
Though you reap no applause.
So think your thoughts and dream your dreams,
Nor wasted hold the cost;
Each one will find a wistful mind,
For nothing can be lost.
If all your efforts seem in vain.
And your lone path seem drear;
Your only crown the world's grim frown,
Your sole reward a sneer;
Look upward to the placid sky
And feel the friendly power
Of Him who knows your works and woes,
And helps you through each hour.
For He who made the sun and stars
Can note a sparrow's flight;
He understands, and all commands
Toward His great goal of right.
And though your brow no chaplet bear,
Yet when the years are flown.
Grown from its sleep, someone shall reap
The seed your hand has sown!
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