Mother, shed no mournful tears, <br />But gird me on my sword; <br />And give no utterance to thy fears, <br />But bless me with thy word. <br /> <br />The lines are drawn! The fight is on! <br />A cause is to be won! <br />Mother, look not so white and wan; <br />Give Godspeed to thy son. <br /> <br />Now let thine eyes my way pursue <br />Where'er my footsteps fare; <br />And when they lead beyond thy view, <br />Send after me a prayer. <br /> <br />But pray not to defend from harm, <br />Nor danger to dispel; <br />Pray, rather, that with steadfast arm <br />I fight the battle well. <br /> <br />Pray, mother of mine, that I always keep <br />My heart and purpose strong, <br />My sword unsullied and ready to leap <br />Unsheathed against the wrong.<br /><br />James Weldon Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-young-warrior-2/
