IT COULDN'T BE DONE.
Somebody said that is couldn’t be done, But he with a chuckle replied, That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one Who wouldn't say so till he’d tried. So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin On his face If he worricni he hid It. He started to sing as he tackled the thing That couldn’t be done, and he did it. Somebody scoffed: “Oh! youll’ never do that; At least, no one ever has done it.” But he took off his coat and took off his hat, And the first thing we knew he’d begun it. With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin, Without any doubting or quiddit, He started to sing as he tackled the t hint: That couldn’t be done, and he did it. There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done, There are thousands to prophesy failure; There are thousands to point out to you one by one The dangers that wait to assail you. Hut just buckle in with a bit of a grin, Just take off your coat and go to it; Just start in to sing as you tackle the tblag That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it. —EDGAR A. GUEST.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB19270218.2.9
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White Ribbon, Volume 32, Issue 379, 18 February 1927, Page 3
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214IT COULDN'T BE DONE. White Ribbon, Volume 32, Issue 379, 18 February 1927, Page 3
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