Luyện nghe bài hát The Spell Of The Yukon

I wanted the gold and I sought it,I scrabbled and mucked like a slave,was it famine or scurvy?I it;I hurled my youth into a grave.I wanted the gold and I got it; came out with a fortune last fall.
yet somehow life's not what I thought it, and somehow the isn't all; no.
There's the land,have you seen it? It's the cussidest I know,
the big dizzy mountains that screen it to the deep death like valleys below.
Some say God was tired when he made it, some say it's a land to shun;maybe,
but there are some who would trade it for no on Earth, and I'm one.
You come to get rich, that's a good reason. You feel like an excile at first, you it like Hell for a season and then you're worse than the worst.
It grips you like some kind of sinning, it twists you foe to a friend.
It seems it's been since the Beginning, it it will be till the end.
I've stood in some mighty mouthed thats plum full of hush to the brim.
I've watched the big husky sun wallow in crimson and gold and dim.
Till the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming and the stars tumbled out neck and crop; and I thought I was dreaming with the peace of the World piled on top.
The summer, no sweeter was ever, the sunshining woods all a thrill, the grailing in the river, the bighorn asleep on the hill.
The strong life that never knows harness, the wilds the caribou call,the freshness, the freedom,the farness.Oh God how I'm stuck on it all!
The winter, the brightness that blinds you,the white land locked tight as a drum; the fear that follows and finds you, the silence that bludgions you dumb.
The snows that are than history, the woods where the wierd shadows slant,the stillness, the moonlight, the mystery.I've bade them goodbye, but I can't.
There's a land where the mountains are nameless and the all run God knows where.
There are that are airing and aimless and deaths that just hang by a hair.
There are hardships that nobody reckons,there are unpeopled and still.
There's a land, oh how it beckons and beckons.And I want to go back and I will.They're my money diminish; I'm sick of the taste of champagne
Thank God when I'm skinned to a finish ,I'll pike to the Yukon again.I'll fight; and you bet it's no sham fight, it's but I've been there before and it's better than this by a great sight.
So me for the Yukon once more. There's gold and haunting and taunting.
It's me on as a goal.
Yet it isn't the gold I'm wanting so much as just finding the gold.
It's the great big broad land way up yonder,it's the that silence has leased,it's the beauty that thrills me with wonder,it's the stillness that fills me with peace.