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Best Tales of the Yukon
In 1904, the Canadian Bank of Commerce transferred teller Robert W. Service to the Yukon Territory. Soon, he was famous as the poet who chronicled the Klondike gold rush and the savage beauty of the frozen north. His tales of hard-bitten propectors and sourdoughs in "The Land God Forgot" make vivid, exciting reading. Here are all the brawling, colorful characters that Service immortalized, including One-Eyed Mike, Dangerous Dan McGrew, Pious Pete, Blasphemous Bill -- and, of course, the lady known as Lou.
160 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 1983
36 people are currently reading
147 people want to read
About the author
Robert W. Service
172 books119 followersThis author is the the British-Canadian writer of Yukon poetry. For the British historian of modern Russia, see Robert Service.
Robert William Service was born into a Scottish family while they were living in Preston, England. He was schooled in Scotland, attending Hillhead High School in Glasgow. He moved to Canada at the age of 21 when he gave up his job working in a Glasgow bank, and traveled to Vancouver Island, British Columbia with his Buffalo Bill outfit and dreams of becoming a cowboy.
He drifted around western North America, taking and quitting a series of jobs. Hired by the Canadian Bank of Commerce, he worked in a number of its branches before being posted to the branch in Whitehorse (not Dawson) in the Yukon Territory in 1904, six years after the Klondike Gold Rush. Inspired by the vast beauty of the Yukon wilderness, Service began writing poetry about the things he saw.
Conversations with locals led him to write about things he hadn't seen, many of which hadn't actually happened, as well. He did not set foot in Dawson City until 1908, arriving in the Klondike ten years after the Gold Rush, but his renown as a writer was already established.
For more information, please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_W._Service.
Robert William Service was born into a Scottish family while they were living in Preston, England. He was schooled in Scotland, attending Hillhead High School in Glasgow. He moved to Canada at the age of 21 when he gave up his job working in a Glasgow bank, and traveled to Vancouver Island, British Columbia with his Buffalo Bill outfit and dreams of becoming a cowboy.
He drifted around western North America, taking and quitting a series of jobs. Hired by the Canadian Bank of Commerce, he worked in a number of its branches before being posted to the branch in Whitehorse (not Dawson) in the Yukon Territory in 1904, six years after the Klondike Gold Rush. Inspired by the vast beauty of the Yukon wilderness, Service began writing poetry about the things he saw.
Conversations with locals led him to write about things he hadn't seen, many of which hadn't actually happened, as well. He did not set foot in Dawson City until 1908, arriving in the Klondike ten years after the Gold Rush, but his renown as a writer was already established.
For more information, please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_W._Service.
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
July 29, 2023
One of the great poets of the Northwest. I have all kinds of images his rugged poetry created that are burned into my mind forever. A child of the Northwest fairly resonates with his words as you may resonate with the words that conjure up the beauty of your homeland.
I am the land that listens, I am the land that broods.
The Spell of the Yukon
No! There’s the land. (Have you seen it?)
It’s the cussedest land that I know,
From the big, dizzy mountains that screen it
To the deep, deathlike valleys below.
Some say God was tired when He made it;
Some say it’s a fine land to shun;
Maybe; but there’s some as would trade it
For no land on earth—and I’m one.
I’ve stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow
That’s plumb-full of hush to the brim;
I’ve watched the big, husky 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’ve thought that I surely was dreaming,
With the peace o’ the world piled on top.
The summer—no sweeter was ever;
The sunshiny woods all athrill;
The grayling aleap 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—
O God! how I’m stuck on it all.
The winter! the brightness that blinds you,
The white land locked tight as a drum,
The cold fear that follows and finds you,
The silence that bludgeons you dumb.
The snows that are older than history,
The woods where the weird shadows slant;
The stillness, the moonlight, the mystery,
I’ve bade ’em good-by—but I can’t.
There’s a land where the mountains are nameless,
And the rivers all run God knows where;
There are lives that are erring and aimless,
And deaths that just hang by a hair;
There are hardships that nobody reckons;
There are valleys unpeopled and still;
There’s a land—oh, it beckons and beckons,
And I want to go back—and I will.
There’s gold, and it’s haunting and haunting;
It’s luring me on as of old;
Yet it isn’t 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 where silence has lease;
It’s the beauty that thrills me with wonder,
It’s the stillness that fills me with peace.
I am the land that listens, I am the land that broods.
The Spell of the Yukon
No! There’s the land. (Have you seen it?)
It’s the cussedest land that I know,
From the big, dizzy mountains that screen it
To the deep, deathlike valleys below.
Some say God was tired when He made it;
Some say it’s a fine land to shun;
Maybe; but there’s some as would trade it
For no land on earth—and I’m one.
I’ve stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow
That’s plumb-full of hush to the brim;
I’ve watched the big, husky 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’ve thought that I surely was dreaming,
With the peace o’ the world piled on top.
The summer—no sweeter was ever;
The sunshiny woods all athrill;
The grayling aleap 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—
O God! how I’m stuck on it all.
The winter! the brightness that blinds you,
The white land locked tight as a drum,
The cold fear that follows and finds you,
The silence that bludgeons you dumb.
The snows that are older than history,
The woods where the weird shadows slant;
The stillness, the moonlight, the mystery,
I’ve bade ’em good-by—but I can’t.
There’s a land where the mountains are nameless,
And the rivers all run God knows where;
There are lives that are erring and aimless,
And deaths that just hang by a hair;
There are hardships that nobody reckons;
There are valleys unpeopled and still;
There’s a land—oh, it beckons and beckons,
And I want to go back—and I will.
There’s gold, and it’s haunting and haunting;
It’s luring me on as of old;
Yet it isn’t 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 where silence has lease;
It’s the beauty that thrills me with wonder,
It’s the stillness that fills me with peace.
October 11, 2022
Robert Service captures the life of the Yukon and the men and women who came to make their fortunes looking for gold. In many of his poems, he paints a majestic view of the beauty of the Yukon Territory. Often his romantic feel of the time and place is set against stories of humor and heartache. Some of the poems are a bit of a slog as their length can get a bit much.
Even still, there are quite a few standouts: “The Men That Don’t Fit In,” “The Rhyme of the Restless Ones,” “The Younger Son,” “The Three Voices,” “The Lure of Little Voices, “Premonition,” “Grin,” and “The Law of the Yukon.” “The Harpy” is unique as it shares the perspective of a woman, poorly treated and left to make her living in a difficult way. Service tends to share the male voice, so hearing from a woman is definitely a treat. He tells her story beautifully - a story filled with lost love and lost freedom, a woman hardened by life. My favorites are his ballads: “The Shooting of Dan McGrew,” “The Ballad of Blasphemous Bill,” and “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” The ballads have everything: a fun narrative, interesting characters, well-crafted poetic elements, and beautiful imagery of the setting.
Even still, there are quite a few standouts: “The Men That Don’t Fit In,” “The Rhyme of the Restless Ones,” “The Younger Son,” “The Three Voices,” “The Lure of Little Voices, “Premonition,” “Grin,” and “The Law of the Yukon.” “The Harpy” is unique as it shares the perspective of a woman, poorly treated and left to make her living in a difficult way. Service tends to share the male voice, so hearing from a woman is definitely a treat. He tells her story beautifully - a story filled with lost love and lost freedom, a woman hardened by life. My favorites are his ballads: “The Shooting of Dan McGrew,” “The Ballad of Blasphemous Bill,” and “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” The ballads have everything: a fun narrative, interesting characters, well-crafted poetic elements, and beautiful imagery of the setting.
April 14, 2019
There’s a land where the mountains are nameless,
And the rivers all run God knows where;
There are lives that are erring and aimless,
And deaths that just hang by a hair;
There are hardships that nobody reckons;
There are valleys unpeopled and still;
There’s a land—oh, it beckons and beckons,
And I want to go back—and I will.
I've heard about Robert W. Service for the first time when he was mentioned in The Great Alone, a book about Alaska. So I checked him out and found out that around 1907 Service has written poetry collections about the Gold Rush in Yukon that became classics. Because I loved several books by Jack London on the subject and am a poetry lover as well, it sounded like the perfect discovery. And it was.
I loved the poems themselves, the writing. A lot of the poems were ballads with actual characters, dialogues, and plots, fit to be recounted around a fireplace for entertainment on a long winter night. Some were realistic, others possessed a legend/fairy tale like quality. They were really interesting and unusual both due to the fascinating subject and the incredible atmosphere that the author recreated.
Robert W. Service's characters are wood-cutters, telegraph workers, policemen, whores and, most notably, prospectors. The author did a great job making me really care about them, feel what they felt. The perseverance, the grit, the restlessness, the lust for gold, the loneliness and longing, the love and hate for High North, the beauty and cruelty of Yukon.
This is an outstanding work, I've never read anything like it and enjoyed it immensely. Absolutely recommend.
Were you ever out in the Great Alone,
when the moon was awful clear,
And the icy mountains hemmed you in
with a silence you most could hear;
With only the howl of a timber wolf,
and you camped there in the cold,
A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world,
clean mad for the muck called gold;
While high overhead, green, yellow and red,
the North Lights swept in bars? —
Then you've a hunch what the music meant. . .
hunger and night and the stars.
May 19, 2024
Denne boka har gitt meg selskap til mang en kaffekopp-fylt morgenstund, en og annen behagelig stund i kveldslesing, og til og med ett og annet midt-på-dagen-dikt, og det har vært så deilig og fint hele veien.
R.W. Service skriver elegant og lettlest, samtidig som han er vanvittig observant og brilliant rettferdig & fengslende om livet i Yukon - Canadas svar på viddene og fjellene jeg bor ved i Arktiske Nord Norge nu. Mer enn en gang har jeg hatt gåsehud.
Jeg kommer på ekte til å savne denne boka, og gleder meg til å plukke den opp igjen om et år eller to.
Anbefaler alle
R.W. Service skriver elegant og lettlest, samtidig som han er vanvittig observant og brilliant rettferdig & fengslende om livet i Yukon - Canadas svar på viddene og fjellene jeg bor ved i Arktiske Nord Norge nu. Mer enn en gang har jeg hatt gåsehud.
Jeg kommer på ekte til å savne denne boka, og gleder meg til å plukke den opp igjen om et år eller to.
Anbefaler alle
August 25, 2007
I admit I'm one of those dreadfully uncultured people that don't really "get" poetry, or really enjoy it. Kinda like opera. But Robert W Service's poetry is amazing. much like Kipling, his poetry is intensely visual and realistic--it takes you to a very specific place, without romanticizing it. and he has some of the brilliant cadences and turn of phrase on a level with Poe. Or so I think. All I know is that while I don't love poetry, I do love this collection. The Harpy is my favorite poem of all time. Read it!
August 3, 2007
Excerpt from "The Black Fox Skin"
"Did ever you see such a skin?" quoth he; "there's nought in the world so fine--
Such fullness of fur as black as the night, such lustre, such size, such shine;
It's life to a one-lunged man like me; it's London, it's women, it's wine.
"The Moose-hides called it the devil-fox, and swore that no man could kill;
That he who hunted it, soon or late, must surely suffer some ill;
But I laughed at them and their old squaw-tales. Ha! Ha! I'm laughing still.
"For look ye, the skin--it's as smooth as sin, and black as the core of the Pit.
By gun or by trap, whatever the hap, I swore I would capture it;
By star and by star afield and afar, I hunted and would not quit.
"For the devil-fox, it was swift and sly, and it seemed to fleer at me;
I would wake in fright by the camp-fire light, hearing its evil glee;
Into my dream its eyes would gleam, and its shadow would I see.
"It sniffed and ran from the ptarmigan I had poisoned to excess;
Unharmed it sped from my wrathful lead ('twas as if I shot by guess);
Yet it came by night in the stark moonlight to mock at my weariness.
"I tracked it up where the mountains hunch like the vertebrae of the world;
I tracked it down to the death-still pits where the avalanche is hurled;
From the glooms to the sacerdotal snows, where the carded clouds are curled.
Great story poems. Robert Service is a favorite of mine.
"Did ever you see such a skin?" quoth he; "there's nought in the world so fine--
Such fullness of fur as black as the night, such lustre, such size, such shine;
It's life to a one-lunged man like me; it's London, it's women, it's wine.
"The Moose-hides called it the devil-fox, and swore that no man could kill;
That he who hunted it, soon or late, must surely suffer some ill;
But I laughed at them and their old squaw-tales. Ha! Ha! I'm laughing still.
"For look ye, the skin--it's as smooth as sin, and black as the core of the Pit.
By gun or by trap, whatever the hap, I swore I would capture it;
By star and by star afield and afar, I hunted and would not quit.
"For the devil-fox, it was swift and sly, and it seemed to fleer at me;
I would wake in fright by the camp-fire light, hearing its evil glee;
Into my dream its eyes would gleam, and its shadow would I see.
"It sniffed and ran from the ptarmigan I had poisoned to excess;
Unharmed it sped from my wrathful lead ('twas as if I shot by guess);
Yet it came by night in the stark moonlight to mock at my weariness.
"I tracked it up where the mountains hunch like the vertebrae of the world;
I tracked it down to the death-still pits where the avalanche is hurled;
From the glooms to the sacerdotal snows, where the carded clouds are curled.
Great story poems. Robert Service is a favorite of mine.
September 24, 2017
Robert Service makes for an interesting copyright situation. This collection draws from two books, published in 1907 and 1909, that are easily in the public domain in the United States because they predate 1923. Service died in 1958, and since that was over 50 years ago, these poems are also public domain in his beloved Canada. Yet in the UK and most of the world, which uses death + 70 years, the poetry in this book won't be public domain in those countries until 2028.
I guess the point I'm making is that where I am in North America, I could have just downloaded Service's original collections from Project Gutenberg. But I still love the feel of a real book in my hands, so I couldn't resist when I found this volume by accident in a bookstore.
I was already familiar with some of the more famous poems included here, but it was the unfamiliar poems that I enjoyed the most. "The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin" is a real gem, perhaps Service's attempt at a horror story. When I finished the entire book, I went back to read that one again, and I have a feeling I'll do it again before I retire it to my bookshelf. Other favorites were "The Pines", "Clancy of the Mounted Police", and "Men of the High North."
5/5 stars.
I guess the point I'm making is that where I am in North America, I could have just downloaded Service's original collections from Project Gutenberg. But I still love the feel of a real book in my hands, so I couldn't resist when I found this volume by accident in a bookstore.
I was already familiar with some of the more famous poems included here, but it was the unfamiliar poems that I enjoyed the most. "The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin" is a real gem, perhaps Service's attempt at a horror story. When I finished the entire book, I went back to read that one again, and I have a feeling I'll do it again before I retire it to my bookshelf. Other favorites were "The Pines", "Clancy of the Mounted Police", and "Men of the High North."
5/5 stars.
June 11, 2010
I did not know of the actual book of poetry by Robert Service, but I knew many of the famous lines and verses that have been quoted in other popular pieces of literature and even in the occasional news article. I believe I quoted one line I liked over dinner, and my Dad instantly recognized it as belonging to a famous poem by Robert Service. Now, my father is not the world's greatest authority on poetry, but it was clear when he gave me this book that he revered it and thought I would love it. On that recommendation, I jumped in and and never looked back. Robert Service was born with the soul of a poet, and his work on the cold, ruthless, rambunctious and stormy northern territory is some of the most soulful and chillingly beautiful poetry I have ever read.
I suggest starting with "The Shooting of Dan McGrew," "The Cremation of Sam McGee" and "The Harpy." If these poems do not hook you, then you might as well walk away from this book. If they do appeal to you, then start back at the beginning and read straight through.
I suggest starting with "The Shooting of Dan McGrew," "The Cremation of Sam McGee" and "The Harpy." If these poems do not hook you, then you might as well walk away from this book. If they do appeal to you, then start back at the beginning and read straight through.
January 2, 2022
There are some ideas about race and sex in these poems that do not hold up. But a mature reader will know what to throw away and what to keep. The glorious and loving descriptions of life in the Northern Interior remain indispensable.
March 3, 2018
5 minutes later:
The Cremation of Sam McGee was a blast from my childhood and I enjoyed going over these old poems again. Not much more to say really.
The Cremation of Sam McGee was a blast from my childhood and I enjoyed going over these old poems again. Not much more to say really.
June 29, 2018
Loved the poems and learning about the Alaska Gold Rush. Totally enjoyable read!
April 4, 2022
I came for Sam McGee and found a few other good gems, along with others full of machismo and less endearing qualities.
July 15, 2023
I really enjoyed these stories and poems about the Yukon gold rush era! This is a true poetry classic!
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August 5, 2024No better thing to read aloud around a campfire on a cold dark night than “The Cremation of Sam McGee”
February 22, 2008
I can't read the Spell of the Yukon without crying. I think everyone should know what it's like to feel God* enter your lungs when you take in a landscape. Robert Service obviously did.
*I use "God" as a placeholder for an actual deity or the Force or Gaia or simply a profound appreciation for life -- whatever you believe in.
*I use "God" as a placeholder for an actual deity or the Force or Gaia or simply a profound appreciation for life -- whatever you believe in.
August 5, 2012
What an awesome collection. I don't think I've ever been put more 'in' the moment than in these poems by Robert W. Service about the Yukon and the gold fields. You can feel the cold and the mud and taste every one of the emotions. These are masterpieces. Second only to Dylan Thomas's "Collected Poems" as my favorite poetry collection of all time.
January 28, 2013
A favorite. Still can recite the poem "Grin" from memory more than 30 years after reading it. Loved the Funeral of Sam McGree and so much more from the Tales of The Yukon. Had a very old leather bound, hand sewn edition that was stolen during a corporate relocation... damn pirates!
November 10, 2013
I'm not usually a poetry reader, but I enjoyed this collection of tales. It was fun and exciting to read about the tales of the Yukon. I would have to say that my favorite poem in the collection was "The Cremation of Sam McGee"
August 29, 2007
Kick ass frontier poetry.
November 7, 2011
Classic Northern poetry. Some of the poems didn't do much for me, but most are good. The top 20% of them are very, very, very good.
January 18, 2013
These poems are uncomplicated while still doing an excellent job of conveying the loneliness, wildness, and attraction of the West. One of my newer favorites.
September 13, 2016
Robert Service is the reason I love poetry and this collection of the Yukon is a grand example as to why. If I could give this twenty stars I would!
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August 12, 2018Terrific read prior to our Alaskan vacation
Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews