Iv

“From the quiet heart of the mountains Ye must take journey, down To the world, that is ever careless Of the skirts of a scholar’s gown. And the sheltered life of college Ye must leave behind you then, And bear your parts in the battle Where men fight hard with men.

There there is naught to help you But your wit and strength of limb, There every man is your master Until you have mastered him. For a great law governs the fighting And all are ruled thereby-- ‘He that is strong shall conquer! He that is weak must die!’