MY FRIENDS
And oftentimes I would die the death, yet wake
up to life anew; The sun would be all ablaze on the waste, and the
sky a blighting blue, And the tears would rise in my snow-blind eyes
and furrow my cheeks like dew.
And the camps we made when their strength outplayed and the day was pinched and wan;
And oh, the joy of that blessed halt, and how I did dread the dawn;
And how I hated the weary men who rose and dragged me on.
And oh, how I begged to rest, to rest—the snow
was so sweet a shroud; And oh, how I cried when they urged me on, cried
and cursed them aloud; Yet on they strained, all racked and pained, and
sorely their backs were bowed.
Anr« then it was all like a lurid dream, and I prayed
for a swift release From the ruthless ones who would not leave me to
die alone in peace; Till I wakened up and I found myself at the post
of the Mounted Police.
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