“The tree that never had to fight For sun and sky air light But stood out in the open plain And always got its share of rain Never became a forest king lived died scrubby thing. The man who toil To gain farm his patch soil Who win Of light air manly as he began. Good timber does not grow with ease stronger wind trees further sky greater length more storm strength. By cold by rain snow In trees men good timbers grow. Where thickest lies growth We find patriarchs both. they hold counsel stars Whose broken branches show scars many winds much strife. This is common law life.”