large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/08_myfriends_service_hp_64kb_8
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/08_myfriends_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
And oh, how I begged to rest, to rest  the snow was so sweet a shroud; And oh, how I cried when they urged me on, cried and cursed them aloud; Yet on they strained, all racked and pained, and sorely their backs were bowed. AND OH HOW I BEGGED TO REST TO REST THE SNOW WAS SO SWEET A SHROUD AND OH HOW I CRIED WHEN THEY URGED ME ON CRIED AND CURSED THEM ALOUD YET ON THEY STRAINED ALL RACKED AND PAINED AND SORELY THEIR BACKS WERE BOWED
in pain I heard the murderer speak of his deed and dream it over again; I heard the poor thief sorrowing for the dead self he had slain. I'll never forget that bitter dawn, so evil, askew and gray, When they wrapped me round in the skins of beasts and they bore me to a sleigh, And we started out with the nearest post an hundred miles away. I'll never forget the trail they broke, with its tense, unuttered woe; And the crunch, crunch, crunch as their snowshoes sank through the crust of the hollow snow; And my breath would fail, and every beat of my heart was like a blow. And oftentimes I would die the death, yet wake up to life anew; The sun would be all ablaze on the waste, and the sky a blighting blue, And the tears would rise in my snow-blind eyes and furrow my cheeks like dew. And the camps we made when their strength outplayed and the day was pinched and wan; And oh, the joy of that blessed halt, and how I did dread the dawn; And how I hated the weary men who rose and dragged me on.  MEN AND OFTEN AT NIGHT IN PAIN I HEARD THE MURDERER SPEAK OF HIS DEED AND DREAM IT OVER AGAIN I HEARD THE POOR THIEF SORROWING FOR THE DEAD SELF HE HAD SLAIN I'LL NEVER FORGET THAT BITTER DAWN SO EVIL ASKEW AND GRAY WHEN THEY WRAPPED ME ROUND IN THE SKIN OF BEASTS AND THEY BORE ME TO A SLEIGH AND WE STARTED OUT WITH THE NEAREST POST A HUNDRED MILES AWAY I'LL NEVER FORGET THE TRAIL THEY BROKE WITH ITS TENSE UNUTTERED WOE AND THE CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH AS THEIR SNOW SHOES SANK THROUGH THE CRUST OF THE HOLLOW SNOW AND MY BREATH WOULD FAIL AND EVERY BEAT OF MY HEART WAS LIKE A BLOW AND OFTTIMES I WOULD DIE THE DEATH YET WAKE UP TO LIFE ANEW AND THE SUN WOULD BE ALL ABLAZE ON THE WASTE AND THE SKY A BLIGHTING BLUE AND THE TEARS WOULD RISE IN MY SNOW BLIND EYES AND FURROW MY CHEEKS LIKE DEW AND THE CAMPS WE MADE WHEN THEIR STRENGTH OUTPLAYED AND THE DAY WAS PINCHED AND WAN AND OH THE JOY OF THAT BLESSED HALT AND HOW I DID DREAD THE DAWN AND HOW I HATED THE WEARY MEN WHO ROSE AND DRAGGED ME ON
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/08_myfriends_service_hp_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/08_myfriends_service_hp_64kb.flac