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 fought 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 I thought it, and somehow the gold isn't all; no.
There's the land,have you seen it? It's the cussidest I know,
from the big dizzy mountains 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 an excile at first, you hate it like Hell for a season and then you're worse than the worst.
It grips you like some of sinning, it twists you from foe to a friend.
It seems been since the Beginning, it seems 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 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 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 where the caribou call,the freshness, the freedom,the farness.Oh God how I'm on it all!
The winter, the brightness that blinds you,the white land locked tight as a drum; the cold 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 are nameless and the rivers all run God knows where.
There are lives that are and aimless and deaths that just hang by a hair.
There are hardships that nobody reckons,there are valleys and still.
There's a land, oh how it beckons and beckons.And I to go back and I will.They're making 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 Hell but I've been before and it's better than this by a great sight.
So me for the once more. There's gold and it's haunting and taunting.
It's me on as a goal.
Yet it isn't the gold that I'm so much as just finding the gold.
It's the great big broad land way up yonder,it's the forests silence has leased,it's the beauty that thrills me with wonder,it's the stillness that fills me with peace.