The Gold Fields.
Here is a tale the North Wind sang to me: Hell hath set Mammon o'er a frozen land, Crowned him with gold, put gold into his hand, And men forsake their God to bow the knee Again unto this world-old deity Whose rule is wheresoe'er man's feet go forth, Whether they track the grim and icy North, Or Afric's scorching sweeps of sandy sea. About his throne they crawl and curse and weep; The tenfold pangs of darkness and of cold Bite at their hearts, and hound them as they creep, Thief-like, to catch his scattered crumbs of gold;-- And over all still burns God's warning scroll: "What profit it if ye shall lose your soul?"
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"Here is a tale the North Wind sang to me:..."
Charles Hamilton Musgrove's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "The Gold Fields."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...