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Monday,
Aug 12, at LaHave River Campground –
Part
Four of “The Cremation of Sam McGee”
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take
a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;”
. . . then the door I opened wide.
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.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold
and storm–
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve
been warm.”
There
are strange things done
in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails
have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights
have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge
of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
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