An' he ain't got nothin' comin', an' he can't afford ter eat. Free kindle book and epub digitized and proofread by Project Gutenberg. We can't do what we would, but what we must. A drivelling, dirty gin-joint fiend, the butt of the bar-room joke; Sunk and sodden and hopeless—"Another? Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us; There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to guide us. And though grim as hell the worst is, can you round it off with curses? As on we tramped exultantly, and no man was our master. Have you camped upon the foothills, have you galloped o'er the ranges. By Be it so. ", And she said: "Put your arms around me, and kiss me, and hold me—so—", But fiercely he drew back, saying: "This thing is wrong, and I know.". They're all put down: it's up to you to pay for every one. "I guess I'll make it a spread misere," said Dangerous Dan McGrew. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring. RHYMES OF A ROLLING STONE. And the star-like lily nestles in the green; And the frogs their joys are singing, and my heart in tune is ringing. Yet 'taint being dead, it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains: So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains.". Along the road to Anywhere we watched the sunsets pale. The gods will work the wires. By track and trail you'll meet us once again. I am the land that listens, I am the land that broods; Steeped in eternal beauty, crystalline waters and woods. And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door. Starved my soul and gone to business every day. And I killed it on the mountain miles away. Book Condition: New. From gloom where mocks that will-o'-wisp, Freewill, I heard a voice cry: "Say, give us a chance.". The parts are written: hear the super wail: "Who is stage-managing this cosmic show?". In a tribal tongue like a rogue unhung, 'mid the ranch-house filth and reek. An' you'd fancy he'd been boozin', he's so locoed 'bout the feet; When he's feelin' sneakin' sorry, an' his belt is hangin' slack. Buy Songs Of A Sourdough by (ISBN: ) from Amazon's Book Store. Whiskey and cards and women, they made me the devil's tool. He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee; And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee. ", There are strange things done in the midnight sun. In the bright sunshine of that Paris day; Saw in his thought the awful hand of doom; Tried in his heart, his weary heart, to pray: "O God! Paperback. Now I've had my lazy supper, and the level sun is gleaming. And the moments went, and I waited there, and never a word was said. Everyday low prices on a huge range of new releases and classic fiction. Runs with the Fiery Cross a clansman true. take back your spawn again. Oh, what have I lost! RHYMES OF A RED CROSS MAN. Feeling my womb o'er-pregnant with the seed of cities unborn. He doffed his celestial garments, scarce waiting to lay them straight; He bade goodbye to Peter, who stood by the golden gate; The sexless singers of heaven chanted a fond farewell. And the voice of my sweet was a silver bell. And I turned my head—and there watching him was the lady that's known as Lou. "On to the gates of Hell, my Gordons gay!". Life is a fiddler, and we all must dance. I blaspheme and my ways be rude; But I've lived my life as I found it, and I've done my best to be good; I, the primitive toiler, half naked, and grimed to the eyes. Select Your Cookie Preferences. No spot on the map in so short a space has hustled more souls to hell. you're tired and broke and beaten?—. Your life span will probably be change the instant you full reading this article ebook.-- David Kovacek (O singer in the gloom, Here in the Farness where we few have room. One by one I dismayed them, frighting them sore with my glooms; One by one I betrayed them unto my manifold dooms. Here, boys! But I'm not dead yet; though with half a lung there isn't time to spare, And I hope that the year will see me out, and, thank God, no one will care—. There is no sound, the stars are all alight—. Ye who take the Lone Trail, bid your love good-bye; The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow till you die. "We were just like a great big family, and every man had his squaw. And sometimes it leads to a coral reef in the wash of a weedy sea. "In the early days we were just a few, and we hunted and fished around. The burn brawls darkly down the shaggy glen. Hark to the song where spheral voices blend: "There's no beginning, never will be end.". There are lives that are erring and aimless. Time has got a little bill—get wise while yet you may. There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror driven. I guess I'll play on the red. Book Condition: New. These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know; They say that the stranger was crazed with "hooch," and I'm not denying it's so. If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze, till sometimes we couldn't see; It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee. Songs of a Sourdough By Robert W. Service To read Songs of a Sourdough PDF, you should follow the button under and save the file or have access to other information that are in conjuction with SONGS OF A SOURDOUGH book. Songs of a Sourdough was Robert W. Service’s breakout volume of poetry. ), But we all were mad, both the good and the bad, and as for the women, well—. Save maybe the little slim Siwash girl with the rose of shame in her hair. Gilded galley-slaves of Mammon—how my purse-proud brothers taunt me! Resumes his part. Wherefore, the wolf-pack having gorged upon the lamb, their prey. He looked like a man with a foot in the grave, and scarcely the strength of a louse. Alone he falls with wide, wan, woeful eyes: Eyes that could smile at death—could not face shame. Yet somehow life's not what I thought it, No! So send me far from Lombard Street, and write me down a failure; Put a little in my purse and leave me free. Download Robert W. Service's Songs Of A Sourdough for your kindle, tablet, IPAD, PC or mobile but it's hell to think. Lashed them with fungus-white faces, whimpering wild in the night; Staggering blind through the storm-whirl, stumbling mad through the snow. The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash. Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he'd do. Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze. With the peace o' the world piled on top. Have you seen God in His splendours, heard the text that nature renders? Tarry not, and fear not, chosen of the true; Lover of the Lone Trail, the Lone Trail waits for you. Look at my face, toil-furrowed; look at my calloused hands; Master, I've done Thy bidding, wrought in Thy many lands—. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. And you rave to your grave with the fever, and they rob the corpse for its clothes. And sometimes it leads to the Southland, to the swamp where the orchid glows. When a man gits on his uppers. SOUTH AFRICA, AND OTHER POEMS. By the road to Anywhere is pitfalled with disaster; There's hunger, want, and weariness, yet O we loved it so! I have followed its lure, fearless, familiar, alone; By all that the battle means and makes I claim that land for mine own; Yet the Wild must win, and a day will come when I shall be overthrown. Don't you remember that last goodbye, and the dear eyes dim with tears? Don't you remember that golden dream, with never a hint of pain. And when the night-winds whisper, and camp-fires flicker out. "Done things" just for the doing, letting babblers tell the story. There's a land where the mountains are nameless. And where Vancouver's shaggy ramparts frown, When the sunlight threads the pine-gloom he is fighting might and main. The sun-god paints his canvas in the west; I can couch me deep in clover, I can listen to the story. well they learnt, the foe. Ye would send me the spawn of your gutters—Go! Have you wandered in the wilderness, the sage-brush desolation. Everyday low prices and free delivery on eligible orders. There's money to burn in the streets to-night, so I've sent my klooch to town. LibriVox recording of Songs of a Sourdough by Robert W. Service. W5HVESKV9BPN / Doc # Songs of a Sourdough SONGS OF A SOURDOUGH To save Songs of a Sourdough PDF, you should click the button below and save the file or have accessibility to additional information which might be have conjunction with SONGS OF A SOURDOUGH ebook. To wear your glad rags always, and to never save a cent; To drift along regardless, have a good time every trip; To hit the high spots sometimes, and to let your chances slip; To know you're acting foolish, yet to go on fooling still. Sentinels of the stillness, lords of the last lone land! It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why; And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky. 'Twere better to die a thousand deaths than live each day as I live! AND OTHER POEMS. All else ... let us forget. And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou. the battle-field his bed. For I know I'd just be longing for the little old log cabin. The table's spread; come, let us dine, my friend. An' his tongue's so black an' swollen that it hurts him fer to speak. he looked ghastly pale. Westphalia Press, United States, 2015. The woman that kissed him and—pinched his poke—was the lady that's known as Lou. You wont sense monotony at at any moment The book is well known for its verse about the Klondike Gold Rush in the Yukon a decade earlier, particularly the long, humorous ballads, "The Shooting of Dan McGrew" and "The Cremation of Sam McGee." The path an ancient wrong, and the bells were ringing the new year in—O God red, rose... 'S Note: Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained of home, framed with rude art,! Chilly breath of dear, dim years ago the hand the foam, celestial strain stumbled... Heard a voice cry: `` he turned from Fortune 's offering to follow up a pale lure swollen it... Lay in his bunk alone it stung like a child of nature fearless. 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