I stumbled upon this poem shortly after I enlisted in the Navy, it was very applicable to my military service and it has been a favorite of mine ever since. I enjoy the fact that it's got a catchy rhythm to it making it easier to memorize, but more than that, I enjoyed the truth that our problems in life really are what we make them. Beyond that, we all die. We all have an end. There is no escaping it. So when we go, the question is, how did we go? And how did we handle things that came our way before then?
How Did You Die?
by Edmund Vance Cooke
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it? You are beaten to earth?
Well, well, what's that!
Come up with a smiling face.
It's nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there--that's disgrace.
The harder you're thrown, why the higher you bounce
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts;
It's how did you fight--and why?
And though you be done to the death, what then?
If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether he's slow or spry,
It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,
But only how did you die?
