large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb_14
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
Put not your trust in a poke of dust would ye sleep the sleep of sin; For there be those who would rob your clothes ere yet the dawn comes in; And a prize likewise in a woman's eyes is a peerless black fox skin. PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN A POKE OF DUST WOULD YE SLEEP THE SLEEP OF SIN FOR THERE BE THOSE WHO WOULD ROB YOUR CLOTHES ERE YET THE DAWN COMES IN AND A PRIZE LIKEWISE IN A WOMAN'S EYES IS A PEERLESS BLACK FOX SKIN
oul fiend fox might scathless go, for I would hunt no more; Then I rubbed mine eyes in a vast surprise--it stood by my cabin door. "A rifle raised in the wraith-like gloom, and a vengeful shot that sped; A howl that would thrill a cream-faced corpse-- and the demon fox lay dead. . . . Yet there was never a sign of wound, and never a drop he bled. "So that was the end of the great black fox, and here is the prize I've won; And now for a drink to cheer me up--I've mushed since the early sun; We'll drink a toast to the sorry ghost of the fox whose race is run." II. Now Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike, bad as the worst were they; In their road-house down by the river-trail they waited and watched for prey; With wine and song they joyed night long, and they slept like swine by day. For things were done in the Midnight Sun that no tongue will ever tell; And men there be who walk earth-free, but whose names are writ in hell-- Are writ in flames with the guilty names of Fournier and Labelle. TILE CHASE AND THERE AND THEN I SWORE THE FOUL FIEND FOX MIGHT SCATHLESS GO FOR I WOULD HUNT NO MORE THEN I RUBBED MINE EYES IN VAST SURPRISE IT STOOD BY MY CABIN DOOR A RIFLE RAISED IN A WRAITH LIKE GLOOM AND A VENGEFUL SHOT THAT SPED A HOWL THAT WOULD THRILL A CREAM FACED CORPSE AND THE DEMON FOX LAY DEAD YET THERE WAS NEVER A SIGN OF WOUND AND NEVER A DROP HE BLED SO THAT WAS THE END OF THE GREAT BLACK FOX AND HERE IS THE PRIZE I'VE WON AND NOW FOR A DRINK TO CHEER ME UP I'VE MUSHED SINCE THE EARLY SUN WE'LL DRINK A TOAST TO THE SORRY GHOST OF THE FOX WHOSE RACE IS RUN NOW CLAW FINGERED KITTY AND WINDY IKE BAD AS THE WORST WERE THEY IN THEIR ROAD HOUSE DOWN BY THE RIVER TRAIL THEY WAITED AND WATCHED FOR PREY WITH WINE AND SONG THEY JOYED NIGHT LONG AND THEY SLEPT LIKE SWINE BY DAY FOR THINGS WERE DONE IN THE MIDNIGHT SUN THAT NO TONGUE WILL EVER TELL AND MEN THERE BE WHO WALK EARTH FREE BUT WHOSE NAMES ARE WRIT IN HELL ARE WRIT IN FLAMES WITH THE GUILTY NAMES OF FOURNIER AND LABELLE
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb.flac