The Spell of the Yukon and Other Verses

There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon, There where the sullen sun-dogs glare in the snow-bright, bitter noon, And the glacier-glutted streams sweep down at the clarion call of June. There where the livid tundras keep their tryst with the tranquil snows; There where the silences are spawned, and the light of hell-fire flows Into the bowl of the midnight sky, violet, amber and rose. There where the rapids churn and roar, and the ice-floes bellowing run; Where the tortured, twisted rivers of blood rush to the setting sun — I’ve packed my kit and I’m going, boys, ere another day is done. – Taken from “The Spell of the Yukon and Other Verses” written by Robert W. Service