Walk silent and soft through the deadly ravine.
That bridge with its dizzying, perilous span,
Aloft o’er the gulf and its flood suspended,
Think’st thou it was built by the art of man,
By his hand that grim old arch was bended?
Far down in the jaws of the gloomy abyss
The water is boiling and hissing—forever will hiss.
Duty—Fame of.
What shall I do to be forever known?
Thy duty ever.