I met an ancient man who mushed
With Peary to the Pole.
Said I, “In all that land so hushed
What most inspired your soul?”
He looked at me with bleary eye,
He scratched a hoary head:
“You know that Sourdoughs jest cain’t lie
So here’s the dope,” he said.
“That hike was like a devil’s dream,
Just blizzards, gales and fogs,
But I was leadin’ wi’ my team
O’ seven husky dogs.
Day after day I steered my sleigh,
Yet spry o’ heart was I,
And every night the Northern Light
Danced ballys in the sky.
“Them dogs o’ mine seemed to divine
Their mighty destiny.
They howled with joy, and like a boy
I jined them in their glee.
While like a spark from out the dark
Fame spurred us to our goal,
On, on we sped, the winnin’ sled
To gain the Pole, the POLE.
“I saw it clear, I raised a cheer,
I knowed the prize was won:
The huskies too, like wind they flew –
Them critters sure could run.
The light was dim, the site was grim,
But sunshine swept my soul,
To see – each husky lift a limb
And…irrigate the Pole.”