Thy rest a watching, snow thy only bed.
The miles went on, the tens ’neath twenties lay;
The scores to hundreds slowly, slowly, roll’d;
And ere the winter wore itself away,
The hundreds turn’d to thousands doubly told.
But still thou wert the leader of the band,
And still thy step went on thro’ toil and pain;
Until like giants in the Wild North Land,
A thousand glittering peaks frown’d o’er the plain.
And yet we did not part; beside me still