Rhymes of a Rolling Stone by Robert W. (Robert William) Service
page 16 of 118 (13%)
page 16 of 118 (13%)
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God's blessed sunshine to this life of mine.
I was a rover, of the breed who plough Life's furrow in a far-flung, lonely line; The wilderness my home, my fortune cast In a wild land of dearth, barbaric, vast. When did I see her first? Long had I lain Groping my way to life through fevered gloom. Sudden the cloud of darkness left my brain; A velvet bar of sunshine pierced the room, And in that mellow glory aureoled She stood, she stood, all golden in its gold. Sunshine! O miracle! the earth grew glad; Radiant each blade of grass, each living thing. What a huge strength, high hope, proud will I had! All the wide world with rapture seemed to ring. Would she but wed me? YES: then fared we forth Into the vast, unvintageable North. III In Muskrat Land the conies leap, The wavies linger in their flight; The jewelled, snakelike rivers creep; The sun, sad rogue, is out all night; The great wood bison paws the sand, In Muskrat Land, in Muskrat Land. |
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