Author Robert Loveman Fate flings her gauntlet at my feet, I boldly lift the gage; Fear shall not be my company Upon the pilgrimage. Death cannot daunt, nor woe, nor want, Nor all the shafts of scorn; O'er Life's glad day I speed away, Mad with its mirth of morn. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments