large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb_5
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
Men from the sands of the Sunland; men from the woods of the West; Men from the farms and the cities, into the Northland we pressed. MEN FROM THE SANDS OF THE SUNLAND MEN FROM THE WOODS OF THE WEST MEN FROM THE FARMS AND THE CITIES INTO THE NORTHLAND WE PRESSED
f 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. Gold! We leapt from our benches. Gold! We sprang from our stools. Gold! We wheeled in the furrow, fired with the faith of fools. Fearless, unfound, unfitted, far from the night and the cold, Heard we the clarion summons, followed the master-lure--Gold!  THE TRAIL OF NINETY EIGHT BY ROBERT SERVICE READ FOR LIEBERVOXDAD ORG BY HAIDEY PRICE GOLD WE LEAPED FROM OUR BENCHES GOLD WE SPRANG FROM OUR STOOLS GOLD WE WHEELED IN THE FURROW FIRED WITH THE FAITH OF FOOLS FEARLESS UNFOUND UNFITTED FAR FROM THE NIGHT AND THE COLD HEARD WE THE CLARION SUMMONS FOLLOWED THE MASTER LURE GOLD
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