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Rh In the wildwoods of Hubbardton, The land of battle, but not of song. The Dean replied in milder tones That he could go in as a legal posse. As an officer having authority, But never as a military commander, As the general of such a mighty army From the land of cider and bean porridge, From the wildwoods of Hubbardton. But where was the key, said the Dean; The key that unlocks the college door; The iron key that turns the bolt In this ancient seat of learning, In this Green Mountain Athens, In this land of slates and quarries! The cunning Dean, fostering delay, Sent for his key at home by one Who was noted for being slow, While the key was in his pocket,