each stalks the other on the bitter edge
of hill and forest where the winter sun
sheds little warmth but hope enough to run
into dark trees just where the young birds fledge
right past the glades where the spring lovers pledge
up to the hills now when the hunt is done
the rest will know just what reward is won
and what has died upon the mountain ledge
there is a truth beyond all human gain
that we extract from every sacrifice
without regard to what each must endure
just to achieve it both the thrill and pain
that are the fullest payment of the price
and for the which there is no certain cure