large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/01_tomanofhighnorth_service_hp_64kb_2
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/01_tomanofhighnorth_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
The nameless men who nameless rivers travel, And in strange valleys greet strange deaths alone; The grim, intrepid ones who would unravel The mysteries that shroud the Polar Zone. THE NAMELESS MEN WHO NAMELESS RIVERS TRAVEL AND IN STRANGE VALLEYS GREET STRANGE DEATHS ALONE THE GRIM INTREPID ONES WHO WOULD UNRAVEL THE MYSTERIES THAT SHROUD THE POLAR ZONE
an envelope, The Song of the Mouth-Organ I'm a homely little bit of tin and bone; The Trail of Ninety-Eight Gold! We leapt from our benches. Gold! We sprang from our stools. The Ballad of Gum-Boot Ben He was an old prospector with a vision bleared and dim. Clancy of the Mounted Police In the little Crimson Manual it's written plain and clear Lost "Black is the sky, but the land is white-- L'Envoi We talked of yesteryears, of trails and treasure, To the Man of the High North My rhymes are rough, and often in my rhyming I've drifted, silver-sailed, on seas of dream, Hearing afar the bells of Elfland chiming, Seeing the groves of Arcadie agleam. I was the thrall of Beauty that rejoices From peak snow-diademed to regal star; Yet to mine aerie ever pierced the voices, The pregnant voices of the Things That Are. The Here, the Now, the vast Forlorn around us; The gold-delirium, the ferine strife; The lusts that lure us on, the hates that hound us; Our red rags in the patch-work quilt of Life.  TO THE MAN OF THE HIGH NORTH BY ROBERT SERVICE READ FOR LIBERVOX DOT WORK BY HAIDE PRICE MY RHYMES ARE ROUGH AND OFTEN IN MY RHYMING I'VE DRIFTED SILVER SAILED ON SEAS OF DREAM HEARING AFAR THE BELLS OF ELFLAND CHIMING SEEING THE GROVES OF ARCADIE AGLEAM I WAS THE THRALL OF BEAUTY THAT REJOICES FROM PEAK SNOW DIADEMED TO REGAL STAR YET TO MINE ERIE EVER PIERCED THE VOICES THE PREGNANT VOICES OF THE THINGS THAT ARE THE HERE THE NOW THE VAST FORLORN AROUND US THE GOLD DELIRIUM THE FURRENT STRIFE THE LUSTS THAT LURE US ON THE HATES THAT HOUND US OUR RED RAGS IN THE PATCHWORK QUILT OF LIFE
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/01_tomanofhighnorth_service_hp_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/01_tomanofhighnorth_service_hp_64kb.flac