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On the Birth of a Child

Louis Untermeyer
©Yoga People, LLC 2017

a hand of a baby

Lo - to the battle-ground of Life,
Child, you have come, like a conquering shout,
Out of a struggle - into strife;
Out of a darkness - into doubt.

Girt with the fragile armor of Youth,
Child, you must ride into endless wars,
With the sword of protest, the buckler of truth,
And a banner of love to sweep the stars. . . .

About you the world's despair will surge;
Into defeat you must plunge and grope 
Be to the faltering, an urge;
Be to the hopeless years, a hope!

Be to the darkened world a flame;
Be to its unconcern a blow

For out of its pain and tumult you came,
And into its tumult and pain you go.