The Cremation of Sam McGee

[bboyminn]

I meant to tack this onto my last post, but I forgot. 

It is hard to say why some poems grab me, and other don't, but
I certainly found this one enjoyable. 

"The Cremation of Sam McGee"
Robert Service (1874-1958)

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
by men who moil for gold; the Arctic trails have
their tales that would make your blood run cold;
the Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
but the queerest they ever did see
was that night on the marge of Lake Labarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee,
where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam
'round the Pole, God only knows.
... ... ...

15 verses, but it tells a very vivid and chilling, plus a
slighly fanciful, tale. 

Marge = edge. That night on the edge of Lake Labarge. 

http://www.wordinfo.info/words/index/info/view_unit/2640/?letter=C&spage=26

Steve/bboyminn