THE NORTH WIND'S MESSAGE
By DANFORD G. BRITTON
Outside the North Wind howls and blusters.
As I sit by the friendly hearth;
And a picture comes in the leaping flames
From the land of the mystic north.
Where the silent trails lie dim and pale
In the glistening ice and snow;
And the hunger cry of the lean wolves' wail
With the mercury sixty below.
There the jackpine's ghostly shadows
Ripple the snowy path;
While the gray clouds scud like a roaring flood
From the north wind's howling wrath.
And for those who travel that great white waste
In the numbing cold and frost,
Death lies in wait, like the hand of fate.
Stop fighting once—and you're lost.
But though the trail may be hard and crooked,
With many a twist and bend,
There's gold at the foot of the rainbow
For those who stick to the end.
Though it's not so much what you win,
If you lose, it's about the same;
But the test of a real man's metal, is,
Friend, are you still in the game?
So when you're near discouraged
And tempted to quit the fight,
Why remember the test of the long grim trail,
In the north land's arctic night.
