For every hill I’ve had to climb…
For every hill I’ve had to climb,
For every stone that bruised my feet,
For all the blood and sweat and grime,
For blinding storm and burning heat,
My heart sings a grateful song,
For these are the things that made me strong.
For all the heartaches and the tears,
For all the anguish and the pain,
For gloomy days and fruitless years,
And for the hopes that live in vain,
I do give thanks for now I know,
These were the things that made me grow.
Tis not the softer things of life,
That stimulate man’s will to strive,
But bleak adversity and strife,
Do most to keep man’s will alive.
O’er rose strewn paths the weaklings creep,
But brave hearts dare to climb the steeps.
