I Remember Little Of The Yukon Or

It's Easy To Fight When Everything's Right And You're Mad With The Thrill And The Glory; It's Easy To Cheer When Victory's Near, And Wallow In Fields That Are Gory. It's A Different Song When Everything's Wrong, When You're Feeling Infernally Mortal; When It's Ten Against One, And Hope There Is None, Buck Up, Little Soldier, And Chortle!

The Happy Man Is He Who Knows His Limitations, Yet Bows To No False Gods.

Carry On! Carry On! Fight The Good Fight And True; Believe In You Mission, Greet Life With A Cheer.

I Have An Intense Dislike For Artificial Society. In France, One Could Lead A Free Life - To Do What One Wanted To Do Without Interference Or Criticism From One's Neighbors.

Alas! The Road To Anywhere Is Pitfalled With Disaster; There's Hunger, Want, And Weariness, Yet O We Loved It So! As On We Tramped Exultantly, And No Man Was Our Master, And No Man Guessed What Dreams Were Ours, As, Swinging Heel And Toe, We Tramped The Road To Anywhere, The Magic Road To Anywhere, The Tragic Road To Anywhere, Such Dear, Dim Years Ago.