Original Text: 
Along the Trail (New York: Duffield and Company, 1907) : 17-18.
1We came to birth in battle; when we pass,
2It shall be to the thunder of the drums.
3We are not one that weeps and saith Alas,
4Nor one that dreams of dim millenniums.
5Our hand is set to this world's business,
6And it must be accomplished workmanly;
7Be we not stout enough to keep our place,
8What profits it the world that we be free?
9Not with despite for others, but to hold
10Our station in the world inviolate,
11We keep the stomach of the men of old
12Who built in blood the bastions of our fate.
13   We know not to what goal God's purpose tends;
14   We know He works through battle to His ends.
October, 1898
RPO poem Editors: 
Ian Lancashire
RPO Edition: