To those of nerve and strong of hand,
Outpours a glittering stream of wealth
To all the miners of the land.
"The ledge-ribbed hills on ev'ry side,
To feasts of ore invite mankind,
Nor Bering's waves may bar the way
To golden courses milled and mined.
"The fresh'ning breezes from the Pole
Bear far the miners' joyous cry,
As point of pick turns back the sod