The Few by Edgar Albert Guest
The easy roads are crowded
And the level roads are jammed;
The pleasant little rivers
with drifting folks are crammed.
But off yonder where it’s rocky,
Where you get a better view,
You will find the ranks are thinning
And the travelers are few.

Where the going’s smooth and pleasant
You will always find the throng,
For the many, more’s the pity,
Seem to like to drift along.
But the steps that call for courage,
And the task that’s hard to do
In the end results in glory
For the never-wavering few

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