MY SPIRIT WILL GROW- UP.

Someday my spirit will grow-up tall and wise,

And then, stern life, I shall no longer go

Cowardly running and crying from your blow.

Then I will face you with clear, earnest eyes

Smiling a little at your sharp surprise,

Unflinching from the threatened stroke, with no

Soft tremor to lighten your frown when I shall grow

In spirit, some day, tall and strong and wise.

Then I will face you, it may be I shall laugh,

Not to disarm you, not to conclude our strife,

But joyous in my newly steadied will

That finds a comfort in thy rod and staff.

Then I will say: “You may hurt me, hurt me life,

Hurt me your worst, and I will love you still.

RUTH EVELYN HENDERSON

Yu/stan/kems