When the youth was minded to marry and the maiden withheld consent,
Heeding the words of Nimrod, they packed their spears and went—
Went to the scented mornings, to the nights of the satin moon
That can lap the heart in solace, that can settle the soul in tune;
So they continued the remedy Nimrod of old began—
The healing hand of the jungle on the fevered brow of man.
Then—as now and to-morrow—mended and sound and sane,
Flushed by the noonday sunshine, freshed by the twilight rain,
Trailing their trophies behind them, armed with the strength of ten,
Back they came from the jungle ready to start again.