My stretcher is one scarlet stain...
In the Spotlight !
This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, it's rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
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The Ballad of the Black Fox SkinPublished by Susan on 2003/7/21 (4078 reads)
There was Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike living the life of shame...
There was Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike living the life of shame,
His cheeks were blanched as the flume-head foam when the brown spring freshets flow;
"Did ever you see such a skin?" quoth he; "there's nought in the world so fine--
"The Moose-hides called it the devil-fox, and swore that no man could kill;
"For look ye, the skin--it's as smooth as sin, and black as the core of the Pit.
"For the devil-fox, it was swift and sly, and it seemed to fleer at me;
"It sniffed and ran from the ptarmigan I had poisoned to excess;
"I tracked it up where the mountains hunch like the vertebrae of the world;
"From the vastitudes where the world protrudes through clouds like seas up-shoaled,
"I was sick, soul-sick, of the futile chase, and there and then I swore
"A rifle raised in the wraith-like gloom, and a vengeful shot that sped;
"So that was the end of the great black fox, and here is the prize I've won;
Now Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike, bad as the worst were they;
For things were done in the Midnight Sun that no tongue will ever tell;
Put not your trust in a poke of dust would ye sleep the sleep of sin;
Put your faith in the mountain cat if you lie within his lair;
Wherefore it was beyond all laws that lusts of man restrain,
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