Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book by Robert W. Service

Rhymes-of-a-Rolling-Stone-PDF

Click here to Download Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book by Robert W. Service Language English having PDF Size 1 MB and No of Pages 65.

There’s sunshine in the heart of me, My blood sings in the breeze; The mountains are a part of me, I’m fellow to the trees. My golden youth I’m squandering, Sun-libertine am I; A-wandering, a-wandering, Until the day I die. I was once, I declare, a Stone-Age man, And I roomed in the cool of a cave; I have known.

Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book by Robert W. Service

Name of Book Rhymes of a Rolling Stone
PDF Size 1 MB
No of Pages 65
Language English
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I will swear, in a new life-span, The fret and the sweat of a slave: For far over all that folks hold worth, There lives and there leaps in me A love of the lowly things of earth, And a passion to be free. To pitch my tent with no prosy plan, To range and to change at will; To mock at the mastership of man, To seek Adventure’s thrill.

Carefree to be, as a bird that sings; To go my own sweet way; To reck not at all what may befall, But to live and to love each day. To make my body a temple pure Wherein I dwell serene; To care for the things that shall endure, The simple, sweet and clean. To oust out envy and hate and rage, To breathe with no alarm; For Nature shall be my anchorage, And none shall do me harm.

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To shun all lures that debauch the soul, The orgied rites of the rich; To eat my crust as a rover must With the rough-neck down in the ditch. To trudge by his side whate’er betide; To share his fire at night; To call him friend to the long trail-end, And to read his heart aright. To scorn all strife, and to view all life With the curious eyes of a child; From the plangent sea to the prairie, From the slum to the heart of the Wild.

From the red-rimmed star to the speck of sand, From the vast to the greatly small; For I know that the whole for good is planned, And I want to see it all. To see it all, the wide world-way, From the fig-leaf belt to the Pole; With never a one to say me nay, And none to cramp my soul. In belly-pinch I will pay the price, But God!

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let me be free; For once I know in the long ago, They made a slave of me. In a flannel shirt from earth’s clean dirt, Here, pal, is my calloused hand! Oh, I love each day as a rover may, Nor seek to understand. To ENJOY is good enough for me; The gipsy of God am I; Then here’s a hail to each flaring dawn! And here’s a cheer to the night that’s gone! And may I go a-roaming on Until the day I die!

Then every star shall sing to me Its song of liberty; And every morn shall bring to me Its mandate to be free. In every throbbing vein of me I’ll feel the vast Earth-call; O body, heart and brain of me Praise Him who made it all! Flat as a drum-head stretch the haggard snows; The mighty skies are palisades of light; The stars are blurred; the silence grows and grows; Vaster and vaster vaults the icy night.

Here in my sleeping-bag I cower and pray: “Silence and night, have pity! stoop and slay.” I have not slept for many, many days. I close my eyes with weariness — that’s all. I still have strength to feed the drift-wood blaze, That flickers weirdly on the icy wall. I still have strength to pray: “God rest her soul, Here in the awful shadow of the Pole.” Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book

There in the cabin’s alcove low she lies, Still candles gleaming at her head and feet; All snow-drop white, ash-cold, with closed eyes, Lips smiling, hands at rest — O God, how sweet! How all unutterably sweet she seems. . . . Not dead, not dead indeed — she dreams, she dreams. II “Sunshine”, I called her, and she brought, I vow, 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. Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book

Even as this line I write, Do I know that she is near; Happy am I, every night Comes she back to bid me cheer; Kissing her, I hold her fast; Win her into life at last. Did I dream that yesterday On yon mountain ridge a glow Soft as moonstone paled away, Leaving less forlorn the snow? Could it be the sun? Oh, fain Would I see the sun again!

Oh, to see a coral dawn Gladden to a crocus glow! Day’s a spectre dim and wan, Dancing on the furtive snow; Night’s a cloud upon my brain: Oh, to see the sun again! You who find us in this place, Have you pity in your breast; Let us in our last embrace, Under earth sun-hallowed rest. Night’s a claw upon my brain: Oh, to see the sun again!

The Sun! at last the Sun! I write these lines, Here on my knees, with feeble, fumbling hand. Look! in yon mountain cleft a radiance shines, Gleam of a primrose — see it thrill, expand, Grow glorious. Dear God be praised! it streams Into the cabin in a gush of gold. Look! there she stands, the angel of my dreams, All in the radiant shimmer aureoled. Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book

First as I saw her from my bed of pain; First as I loved her when the darkness passed. Now do I know that Life is not in vain; Now do I know God cares, at last, at last! Light outlives dark, joy grief, and Love’s the sum: Heart of my heart! Sunshine! I come . . . I come. . . . Oh, I heard a splash, and quick as a flash I knew he could not swim. I saw him whirl in the river swirl, and thresh his arms about.

In a queer, strained way I heard Dick say: “I’m going after him,” Throw off his coat, leap down the boat — and then I gave a shout: “Boys, grab him, quick! You’re crazy, Dick! Far better one than two! Hell, man! You know you’ve got no show! It’s sure and certain death. . . .” And there we hung, and there we clung, with beef and brawn and thew.

And sinews cracked and joints were racked, and panting came our breath; And there we swayed and there we prayed, till strength and hope were spent — Then Dick, he threw us off like rats, and after Jim he went. With mighty urge amid the surge of river-rage he leapt, And gripped his mate and desperate he fought to gain the shore. Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book 

With teeth a-gleam he bucked the stream, yet swift and sure he swept To meet the mighty cataract that waited all a-roar. And there we stood like carven wood, our faces sickly white, And watched him as he beat the foam, and inch by inch he lost; And nearer, nearer drew the fall, and fiercer grew the fight, Till on the very cascade crest a last farewell he tossed.

Then down and down and down they plunged into that pit of dread; And mad we tore along the shore to claim our bitter dead. And from that hell of frenzied foam, that crashed and fumed and boiled, Two little bodies bubbled up, and they were heedless then; And oh, they lay like senseless clay! and bitter hard we toiled, Yet never, never gleam of hope, and we were weary men.

And moments mounted into hours, and black was our despair; And faint were we, and we were fain to give them up as dead, When suddenly I thrilled with hope: “Back, boys! and give him air; I feel the flutter of his heart. . . .” And, as the word I said, Dick gave a sigh, and gazed around, and saw our breathless band; And saw the sky’s blue floor above, all strewn with golden fleece. Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book Download

And saw his comrade Jack-pot Jim, and touched him with his hand: And then there came into his eyes a look of perfect peace. And as there, at his very feet, the thwarted river raved, I heard him murmur low and deep: “Thank God! the WHISKEY’s saved.” My hand is athrill on the paddle, the birch-bark bounds like a bird.

Hark to the rumble of rapids! Here in my morris chair Eager and tense I’m straining — isn’t it most absurd? Now in the churn and the lather, foam that hisses and stings, Leap I, keyed for the struggle, fury and fume and roar; Rocks are spitting like hell-cats — Oh, it’s a sport for kings, Life on a twist of the paddle . . . there’s my “Kim” on the floor.

How I thrill and I vision! Then my camp of a night; Red and gold of the fire-glow, net afloat in the stream; Scent of the pines and silence, little “pal” pipe alight, Body a-purr with pleasure, sleep untroubled of dream: Banquet of paystreak bacon! moment of joy divine, When the bannock is hot and gluey, and the teapot’s nearing the boil! Never was wolf so hungry, stomach cleaving to spine. . . . Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book Download

Ha! there’s my servant calling, says that dinner will spoil. What do I want with dinner? Can I eat any more? Can I sleep as I used to? . . . Oh, I abhor this life! Give me the Great Uncertain, the Barren Land for a floor, The Milky Way for a roof-beam, splendour and space and strife: Something to fight and die for — the limpid Lake of the Bear.

The Empire of Empty Bellies, the dunes where the Dogribs dwell; Big things, real things, live things . . . here on my morris chair How I ache for the Northland! “Dinner and servants” — Hell!! Am I too old, I wonder? Can I take one trip more? Go to the granite-ribbed valleys, flooded with sunset wine, Peaks that pierce the aurora, rivers I must explore, Lakes of a thousand islands, millioning hordes of the Pine?

Do they not miss me, I wonder, valley and peak and plain? Whispering each to the other: “Many a moon has passed . . . Where has he gone, our lover? Will he come back again? Star with his fires our tundra, leave us his bones at last?” Yes, I’ll go back to the Northland, back to the way of the bear, Back to the muskeg and mountain, back to the ice-leaguered sea. Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book Download

Old am I! what does it matter? Nothing I would not dare; Give me a trail to conquer — Oh, it is “meat” to me! I will go back to the Northland, feeble and blind and lame; Sup with the sunny-eyed Husky, eat moose-nose with the Cree; Play with the Yellow-knife bastards, boasting my blood and my name.

I will go back to the Northland, for the Northland is calling to me. Then give to me paddle and whiplash, and give to me tumpline and gun; Give to me salt and tobacco, flour and a gunny of tea; Take me up over the Circle, under the flamboyant sun; Turn me foot-loose like a savage — that is the finish of me.

We crawled down to the river bank and feeble folk were we, That Julie Claire from God-knows-where, and Barb-wire Bill and me. From shore to shore we heard the roar the heaving ice-floes make, And loud we laughed, and launched our raft, and followed in their wake. The river swept and seethed and leapt, and caught us in its stride. Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book Free

And on we hurled amid a world that crashed on every side. With sullen din the banks caved in; the shore-ice lanced the stream; The naked floes like spooks arose, all jiggling and agleam. Black anchor-ice of strange device shot upward from its bed, As night and day we cleft our way, and arrow-like we sped. But “Faster still!”

Cried Barb-wire Bill, and looked the live-long day In dull despair at Julie Claire, as white like death she lay. And sometimes he would seem to pray and sometimes seem to curse, And bent above, with eyes of love, yet ever she grew worse. And as we plunged and leapt and lunged, her face was plucked with pain.

And I could feel his nerves of steel a-quiver at the strain. And in the night he gripped me tight as I lay fast asleep: “The river’s kicking like a steer . . . run out the forward sweep! That’s Hell-gate Canyon right ahead; I know of old its roar, And . . . I’ll be damned! THE ICE IS JAMMED! We’ve GOT to make the shore.” Rhymes of a Rolling Stone PDF Book Free

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