The lonely sunsets flare forlorn Down valleys dreadly desolate; The lordly mountains soar in scorn As still as death, as stern as fate. The lonely sunsets flame and die; The giant valleys gulp the night; The monster mountains scrape the sky, Where eager stars are diamond-bright. So gaunt against the gibbous moon, Piercing the silence velvet-piled, A lone wolf howls his ancient rune — The fell arch-spirit of the Wild. O outcast land! O leper land! Let the lone wolf-cry all express The hate insensate of thy hand, Thy heart's abysmal loneliness.
Contents with First Lines: The Land God Forgot The lonely sunsets flare forlorn, The Spell of the Yukon I wanted the gold, and I sought it, The Heart of the Sourdough There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon, The Three Voices The waves have a story to tell me, The Law of the Yukon This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain, The Parson's Son This is the song of the parson's son, as he squats in his shack alone, The Call of the Wild Have you gazed on naked grandeur where there's nothing else to gaze on, The Lone Trail Ye who know the Lone Trail fain would follow it, The Pines We sleep in the sleep of ages, the bleak, barbarian pines, The Lure of Little Voices There's a cry from out the loneliness — oh, listen, Honey, listen! The Song of the Wage-Slave When the long, long day is over, and the Big Boss gives me my pay, Grin If you're up against a bruiser and you're getting knocked about, The Shooting of Dan McGrew A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon, The Cremation of Sam McGee There are strange things done in the midnight sun, My Madonna I haled me a woman from the street, Unforgotten I know a garden where the lilies gleam, The Reckoning It's fine to have a blow-out in a fancy restaurant, Quatrains One said: Thy life is thine to make or mar, The Men That Don't Fit In There's a race of men that don't fit in, Music in the Bush O'er the dark pines she sees the silver moon, The Rhyme of the Remittance Man There's a four-pronged buck a-swinging in the shadow of my cabin, The Low-Down White This is the pay-day up at the mines, when the bearded brutes come down, The Little Old Log Cabin When a man gets on his uppers in a hard-pan sort of town, The Younger Son If you leave the gloom of London and you seek a glowing land, The March of the Dead The cruel war was over — oh, the triumph was so sweet, "Fighting Mac" A pistol shot rings round and round the world, The Woman and the Angel An angel was tired of heaven, as he lounged in the golden street, The Rhyme of the Restless Ones We couldn't sit and study for the law, New Year's Eve It's cruel cold on the water-front, silent and dark and drear, Comfort Say! You've struck a heap of trouble, The Harpy There was a woman, and she was wise; woefully wise was she, Premonition 'Twas a year ago, and the moon was bright, The Tramps Can you recall, dear comrade, when we tramped God's land together, L'Envoi You who have lived in the land,
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