“The tree that never had to fight, for sun and sky and air & light.
That stood out in the open plain, & always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king, but lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to win his share, of sun & sky, & light & air;
Never became a manly man, but lived and died as he began.
Good timber does not grow in ease; the stronger wind,
The tougher the trees; the farther the sky, the greater the length;
The more the storm, the more the strength; by sun and cold,
By rain and snows; in tree or man, good timber grows.
Where thickest stands the forest growth, we find the patriarchs
of both; and they hold converse with stars, whose broken
branches show the scars of many winds and of much strife-
This is the common law of life.”