What care we for the moil and strife,
Or the thousands of foes to health and life,
When there’s gold for the mighty, and gold for the meek,
And gold for whoever shall dare to seek?
Untold
Is the gold;
And it lies in the reach of the man that’s bold:
In the hands of the man who dares to face
The death in the blast, that blows apace;
That withers the leaves on the forest tree;