His way is strewn, with blood and tears,
Pressing onward, despite his fears,
Amidst a cry, of shouts and jeers,
Pleasures tempting, but he adheres,
He stays his soul, braves new frontiers,

A stranger man, was never known,
No plant nor stone, has heard him groan,
A heavy sentence, to bear alone,
His long full beard, has grayer grown,
As on the grass, his bed is thrown,

His life is plain, It has not thrill,
A man of strength, of soul and will,
None shall shake him, And none can ****,
Amid the night, when wind would chill,
A firm resolve, his goals fulfill,

And on until, a final day,
When he walks on, without dismay,
Stumbles upon, the sainted fray,
He drops his cloak, and makes his way,
Up to the gods, with grand hooray,