large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb_46
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
Gold! We leapt from our benches. Gold! We sprang from our stools. GOLD WE LEAPED FROM OUR BENCHES GOLD WE SPRANG FROM OUR STOOLS
he grimy, gritty one, Who sweats his bones to keep himself alive; Who's up against the real thing from his birth; Whose heritage is hard and bitter toil; I voice the weary, smeary ones of earth, The helots of the sea and of the soil. I'm the Steinway of strange mischief and mischance; I'm the Stradivarius of blank defeat; In the down-world, when the devil leads the dance, I am simply and symbolically meet; I'm the irrepressive spirit of mankind; I'm the small boy playing knuckle down with Death; At the end of all things known, where God's rubbish-heap is thrown, I shrill impudent triumph at a breath. I'm a humble little bit of tin and horn; I'm a byword, I'm a plaything, I'm a jest; The virtuoso looks on me with scorn; But there's times when I am better than the best. Ask the stoker and the sailor of the sea; Ask the mucker and the hewer of the pine; Ask the herder of the plain, ask the gleaner of the grain-- There's a lowly, loving kingdom--and it's mine. The Trail of Ninety-Eight I.   THE TRAIL OF NINETY EIGHT BY ROBERT SERVICE READ FOR LIEBERVOXDAD ORG BY HAIDEY PRICE 
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb
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download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb.flac