A trail upwinds from Golden; It leads to a land God only knows, To the land of eternal frozen snows,
C.P.R. "NO. 1," WESTBOUND I swing to the sunset land - The world of prairie, the world of plain,
I Stripped to the waist, his copper-coloured skin Red from the smouldering heat of hate within,
I Sing to us, cedars; the twilight is creeping With shadowy garments, the wilderness through;
"Wreck and stray and castaway." - SWINBURNE. Once more adrift. O'er dappling sea and broad lagoon,