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 fought it;I hurled my youth into a grave.I the gold and I got it; came out with a fortune last fall.
yet somehow not what I thought it, and somehow the gold isn't all; no.
the land,have you seen it? It's the cussidest land I know,
from the big mountains that screen it to the deep death like valleys below.
Some say God was when he made it, some say it's a fine land to shun;maybe,
but there are some who trade it for no land on Earth, and I'm one.
You come to get rich, that's a good reason. You feel like an excile at first, you hate it like Hell for a season and then you're worse the worst.
It grips you like some kind of sinning, it you from foe to a friend.
It seems it's since the Beginning, it seems it will be till the end.
I've stood in mighty mouthed hollow thats plum full of hush to the brim.
I've watched the big sun wallow in crimson and gold and grow dim.
Till the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming and the stars tumbled out neck and crop; and I thought I surely was dreaming with the peace of the 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 where the call,the freshness, the freedom,the farness.Oh God how I'm stuck on it all!
The winter, the brightness blinds you,the white land locked tight as a drum; the cold fear that follows and finds you, the silence that bludgions you dumb.
The snows that are older than history, the woods 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 lives that are airing and aimless and that just hang by a hair.
There are hardships nobody reckons,there are valleys unpeopled and still.
There's a land, oh how it beckons and beckons.And I want to go back and I will.They're making my money diminish; I'm sick of the taste of
Thank God when I'm skinned to a finish ,I'll pike to the Yukon again.I'll and you bet it's no sham fight, it's Hell 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 and it's haunting and taunting.
It's me on as a goal.
Yet it the gold that I'm wanting so much as just finding the gold.
It's the great big broad land way up yonder,it's the forests that silence has leased,it's the beauty that me with wonder,it's the stillness that fills me with peace.