Yesterday I talked about Invictus and mentioned a second poem. Here it is. The Man In The Arena by Teddy Roosevelt. I have always liked this one too.

It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly;
who errs,
comes up short again and again,
because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;
but who does actually strive to do the deeds;
who knows the great enthusiasms,
the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the best knows in the end
the triumph of high achievement,
and who at the worst, if he fails,
at least fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be with those
cold and timid souls
who neither know victory nor defeat.
-Theodore Roosevelt

Coincidentally, I am reading The Rough Riders by Teddy Roosevelt. I like the way even when he is being critical of someone it is not a personal attack. We can all relearn that lesson from time to time.

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