The Great Adventure                                                                                                   
What is the profit that men can find
In the frozen North or the jungle heat?
What is the vision they hold in mind
When they face the hardships that they must meet?
It cannot pay, yet they see it through
And the magic purpose that keeps them to it,
Is doing the work that they want to do
In the way that they want to do it.

It isn't money, it isn't fame,
That stirs the soul to a true adventure,
Or makes men stick to the grimmest game
In spite of ridicule, doubt and censure.
It's just the spirit that holds you true
To what you've started, and bears you through it;
It's doing the work that you want to do
In the way that you want to do it.

Oh, the weary souls who are chained by chance
To a treadmill track they must always amble,
Who never thrilled to a mad romance,
Who feared the risk of a mighty gamble.
They are the failures in life, not those
Who dreamed and struggled and risked and lost,
Who toiled and battled and baked and froze
But never flinched when the dice were tossed.

It's the thought that lifts us above the beast,
The dream that moves us to discontent,
The thing that's driven us west and east
And conquered ocean and continent;
And when we win to the heaven true
We'll find a place, when we come to view it,
Where men do work that they want to do
In the way that they want to do it!

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