I could hear the huskies howling in the dazzling artic snow
Where Jack London wrote his stories many, many years ago
I could see those rugged mountains in the grip of winter cold
In the days when the prospectors risked their health and lives for gold

And as I read on through the pages I could picture myself there
Up by the Mackenzie mountains in the frozen Artic air
And as I read on through the pages I could picture history
In the days when Robert Service was cremating Sam Mcgee.

I could see why Robert Service was the Klondike's greatest poet
For he truly lived his verses he lived every verse he wrote
He had humour, he had pathos, he had laughter, he had pain
In the hard days in the Yukon when men risked their all for gain.

I have been up in the Yukon been there in the gold rush time
Robert Service took me to there in his memorable rhyme
I have seen 'The cremation of Sam Mcgee', 'The shooting of Dan Mcgrew'
And for my visit to the Yukon Robert Service I thank you.

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