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The Prospector

Where the ragged, snow-capped saw tooth

Cuts the azure of the sky

And watches o'er the lonely land

As ages wander by;

Where the sentinel pines in grandeur

Murmur to the glacier stream

As it, ice-gorged, gluts the canyon,

Never brightened by the gleam

Pat O Cotter

The Throwback

He was born far east of the Rockies

Of a pet in society's van;

A wine-soaked daughter of pleasure

Bred back and threw a man;

A man-child who grew up a stranger,

Who never could learn the way

Of a people who gauge their pleasure

On a line with the price they pay.

Pat O Cotter

Unsatisfied

Some sigh for the breath of the desert

Where the stifling heat waves blow;

Some pant for the trackless tundra

And the sting of the cold and snow;

Some long for the wash of a sultry sea

As it breaks on a tropic shore;

Some pine for the breeze of the northern seas

And the sound of the Arctic's roar.

Pat O Cotter

Dedicated To Alaska

The home of the tin can and dog,

A waste of snow, ice, and moss.

The graveyard of ambitions,

The by-word for hell,

The home of the famed double cross.

Men come here for gold,

Ambitious for wealth

They stick--for they can't get away,

Pat O Cotter

Yet

Some sigh for the breath of the desert

Where the stifling heat waves blow;

Some pant for the trackless tundra

And the sting of the cold and snow;

Some long for the wash of a sultry sea

As it breaks on a tropic shore;

Some pine for the breeze of the northern seas

And the sound of the Arctic's roar.

Pat O Cotter

The Birth Of The Land

For a thousand years the Devil crouched

On the white hot flags of hell:

For a thousand years the Devil cursed

The imps that had chained him well;

For a thousand years the Devil sulked

And planned with his hell-trained brain

Of the things he'd do, when his term was thru,

And freed from the blistering chain.

Pat O Cotter

Trying

The dream of the white man ever goes out

To the fight that can never be won,

And ever he plans to do the things

That they say can never be done.

It's seldom he values the things that are

What he craves he may never gain,

Yet ever he tries, till the day he dies

And then feels he has lived in vain.

Pat O Cotter

Us For Sam

While all Europe is a shambles

And the whole world is at war,

And half the land the sun shines on

Is drenched in human gore;

When every Nation counts the men

It knows are tried and true

We send this message to you, Sam,

"Alaska stands with you."

Pat O Cotter

If

If you can hit the trail in zero weather

And laugh at frozen hand, or foot or face;

If you can eat your dogs, and still keep moving

And beat the rest, and hold the stampede's pace;

If you can stake and dig alone, unaided

And hold your ground, if needs be with a gun

And find the gold and have some lawyer steal it,

And lose, and start again, and call it fun.

Pat O Cotter

When The Water Starts To Run

Along in early spring time, as the sun starts swinging North

To linger with the land it loves, and violets peep forth,

When the water starts to running thru the riffle blocks at noon

And you figure that you'll clean up, about the first of June.

You've been thru a long hard winter, but you see the end in sight,

You don't worry 'bout the cleanup, cause you know the pay is right;

But you're feeling sort of restless, as your blood warms with the sun

And your heart will start to itching, when the water starts to run.

Pat O Cotter

Flotsam

The China Coast's a dumping ground

And the South Sea gets its share

Of the kind of men that don't make good

The kind of man that never could

The men that never care.

A worthless, careless drinking lot

Combed out from between the Poles.

It's gin, and cards, a woman's breath,

Pat O Cotter

A Woman, A Dog, And A Walnut Tree

This Land is the orphan kiddie

Of the group with their stars in the Flag,

And it's looked on Outside as an alien,

Where its treatment makes honest men gag.

It's treated the same as the harlot

Who barters her body for pelf

And carries it home to her master

And is told to look after herself.

Pat O Cotter