large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/09_thewoodcutter_service_hp_64kb_8
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/09_thewoodcutter_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
I hew and I launch my cordwood, and raft it to Dawson town, Where wood means wine and women, and, incidentally, hell. I HEW AND I LAUNCH MY CORDWOOD AND RAFT IT TO DAWSON TOWN WHERE WOOD MEANS WINE AND WOMEN AND INCIDENTALLY HELL
iver that grits at my feet; Face to face with my soul-self, weighing my life at its worth; Wondering what I was made for, here in my last retreat. Last! Ah, yes, it's the finish. Have ever you heard a man cry? (Sobs that rake him and rend him, right from the base of the chest.) That's how I've cried, oh, so often; and now that my tears are dry, I sit in the desolate quiet and wait for the infinite Rest. Rest! Well, it's restful around me; it's quiet clean to the core. The mountains pose in their ermine, in golden the hills are clad; The big, blue, silt-freighted Yukon seethes by my cabin door, And I think it's only the river that keeps me from going mad. By day it's a ruthless monster, a callous, insatiate thing, With oily bubble and eddy, with sudden swirling of breast; By night it's a writhing Titan, sullenly murmuring, Ever and ever goaded, and ever crying for rest. It cries for its human tribute, but me it will never drown. I've learned the lore of my river; my river obeys me well. OF EARTH O'ER ME A MENACE OF MOUNTAINS A RIVER THAT GRITS AT MY FEET FACE TO FACE WITH MY SOUL SELF WEIGHING MY LIFE AT ITS WORTH WONDERING WHAT I WAS MADE FOR HERE IN MY LAST RETREAT LAST AH YES IT'S THE FINISH HAVE EVER YOU HEARD A MAN CRY SOBS THAT RAKE HIM AND REND HIM RIGHT FROM THE BASE OF THE CHEST THAT'S HOW I'VE CRIED OH SO OFTEN AND NOW THAT MY TEARS ARE DRY I SIT IN THE DESOLATE QUIET AND WAIT FOR THE INFINITE REST REST WELL IT'S RESTFUL AROUND ME IT'S QUIET CLEAN TO THE CORE THE MOUNTAINS POSE IN THEIR ERMINE IN GOLDEN THE HILLS ARE CLAD THE BIG BLUE SILK FREIGHTED YUKON SEETHES AT MY CABIN DOOR AND I THINK IT'S ONLY THE RIVER THAT KEEPS ME FROM GOING MAD BY DAY IT'S A RUTHLESS MONSTER A CALLOUS INSATIATE THING WITH OILY BUBBLE AND EDDY WITH SUDDEN SWIRLING OF BREAST BY NIGHT IT'S A WRITHING TITAN SULLENLY MURMURING EVER AND EVER GOADED AND EVER CRYING FOR REST IT CRIES FOR ITS HUMAN TRIBUTE BUT ME IT WILL NEVER DROWN I'VE LEARNED THE LORE OF MY RIVER MY RIVER OBEYS ME WELL
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/09_thewoodcutter_service_hp_64kb
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download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/09_thewoodcutter_service_hp_64kb.flac