Quoted By:
Basically every poem Robert Service ever wrote about the Yukon, but specifically this passage.
Were you ever out in the Great Alone when the moon was awful clear,
And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could *hear*,
With only the howl of the timber wolf as you camped there in the cold,
A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold,
Whilst high overhead, green, yellow, and red, the north lights swept in bars?
Then you've a hunch what the music meant -- hunger, and night, and the stars.
