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!’