The World of Ice and Snow.
Come listen all good people who dwell at home at ease,
I’ll tell you of the sorrows of them that cross the seas
And penetrate the wilderness,
Where arctic tempests blow—
Where your toes are froze,
An’ the pint o’ your nose,
In the world of Ice and Snow.
You’ve eight long months of winter an’ solitude profound,
The snow at your feet is ten feet deep and frozen hard the ground.
And all the lakes are solid cakes,
And the rivers all cease to flow—
Where your toes are froze,
An’ the pint o’ your nose,
In the world of Ice and Snow.
No comrade to enliven; no friendly foe to fight;
No female near to love or cheer with pure domestic light;
No books to read; no cause to plead;
No music, fun, nor go—
Ne’er a shillin’, nor a stiver,
Nor nothin’ whatsomediver,
In the world of Ice and Snow.
Your feelin’s take to freezin’, so likewise takes your brain;
You go about grump-and-wheezin’, like a wretched dog in pain;
You long for wings, or some such things,
But they’re not to be had—oh! no—
For there you are,
Like a fixéd star,
In the world of Ice and Snow.
If you wished you could—you would not, for the very wish
would die.
If you thought you would—you could not, for you wouldn’t
have heart to try.
Confusion worse confounded,
Would aggravate you so—
That you’d tumble down
On the frozen ground
In the world of Ice and Snow.
But “never-give-in” our part is—let British pluck have sway
And “never-say-die,” my hearties—it’s that what wins the day.
To face our fate in every state,
Is what we’ve got to do,
An’ laugh at our trouble
Till we’re all bent double—
In the world of Ice and Snow.
Now all ye sympathisers, and all ye tender souls;
Ye kind philanthropisers, who dwell between the poles,
Embrace in your affections
Those merry merry men who go—
Where your toes are froze,
An’ the pint o’ your nose,
In the world of Ice and Snow.
It almost seemed as though the world of ice and snow itself had taken umbrage at Macnab’s song, for, while we were yet in the act of enthusiastically prolonging the last “sno–o–ow,” there sounded in our ears a loud report, as if of heavy artillery close at hand.
We all leaped up in excitement, as if an enemy were at our doors.
“There it goes at last!” cried Lumley, rushing out of the house followed by Spooner.
I was about to follow when Macnab stopped me.
“Don’t get excited, Max, there’s no hurry!”
“It’s the river going to break up,” said I, looking back impatiently.
“Yes, I know that, but it won’t break up to-night, depend on it.”
I was too eager to wait for more, but ran to the banks of the river, which at that place was fully a mile wide. The moon was bright, and we could see the familiar sheet of ice as still and cold as we had seen it every day for many months past.