Читать книгу Children of Christmas, and Others - Edith Matilda Thomas - Страница 8

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Night of the winter—winter and night in the city of Nome,

There where the many are dwelling, but no man yet has a home!

Desolate league upon league, ice-pack and tundra and hill;

And the dark of the year when the gold-hunter’s rocker and dredge are still!

By the fire that is no man’s hearth,—by the fire more precious than gold,—

They are passing the time as they may, encompassed by storm and by cold:

And their talk is of pay-streak and bedrock, of claim by seashore or creek,

Of the brigantine fast in the ice-pack this many and many a week;

Wraiths of the mist and the snow encumber her canvas and deck,—

And the Eskimos swear that a crew out of ghostland are crowding the wreck!

Thus, in the indolent dark of the year, in the city of Nome,

They were passing the time as they might, but ever their thoughts turned home.

Said the Man from the East, “In God’s country now (where we’d all like to be),

You may bet your life there’s a big boom on for the Christmas Tree;

And we’d have one here, but there isn’t a shrub as high as my hand,

Nor the smell of spruce, for a hundred miles, in all this land!”

Then the Man from the South arose: “I allow, if the Tree could be found,

I’d ’tend to the fruit myself, and stand ye a treat all round!”

“Done!” said the Man from the West (the youngest of all was he).

“I’ll lose my claim in the ruby sand—or I’ll find the Tree!”

The restless Aurora is waving her banners wide through the dome,

And the Man from the West is off, while yet they are sleeping in Nome!

Off, ere the low-browed dawn, with Eskimo, sledge, and team:

He is leaving the tundra behind, he is climbing the source of the stream!

On, beyond Sinrock—on, while the miles and the dim hours glide—

On, toward the evergreen belt that darkens the mountain side!

’Tis a hundred miles or more; but his team is strong, is swift,

And brief are his slumbers at night, in the lee of the feathery drift!

There were watchful eyes, there were anxious hearts in the city of Nome;

And they cheered with a will when the Man from the West with his prize came home!

And they cheered again for the Christmas Tree that was brought from far,

Chained to his sledge, like a king of old to the conqueror’s car!

Said the Man from the South, “I’ll ’tend to the fruit that grows on the Tree!”

Said the Man from the East, “Leave the Christmas dinner and trimmings to me!”