The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
That stood out in the open plains
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king,
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to toil
To heaven from the common soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man,
But lived and died as he began.
