Where the bleak half-year of sun flees the black half-year of night,
And the stars eternal stab the lifeless snows:
There lies the land that's God's own land—the land of frozen sea,
The land that lures the heart that brooks no sway
And the lubber has no portion in its heritage with me;
For it's men, red-blooded men, that tread the way.
And it's, Lash your team of huskies!
And it's, Lift the sled along!
And it's, Climb the frozen hummocks where the wind is biting strong!
And it's, Fight your way through blizzard