The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things that happen in the Arctic, where men search for gold. One night, the narrator cremated his friend Sam McGee, who was always cold but wanted to be buried in the cold. The narrator struggled to fulfill his promise as he traveled through harsh conditions, but eventually found a derelict ship, the Alice May, to use as a crematorium. Despite the cold and the eerie atmosphere, Sam seemed content in the furnace. In the end, the narrator reflects on the strange and chilling experiences in the Arctic. There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold. The arctic trails have their secret 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 marsh of Lake LaVarge When I cremated Sam McGee. Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee Where the cotton blooms and blows And why he left his home on the south to roam around the pole God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold Seemed to hold him like a spell Although he'd often say In his homely way that he'd sooner live in hell. It was on a Christmas day We were mushing our way over the Dawson Trail Talk if you're cold if the parka's full That's stabbed like a driven nail As we closed the lashes froze Till sometimes we couldn't see It wasn't much fun But the only one to whimper was Sam McGee. And that very night As we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow And the dogs were fed and the stars overhead Were dancing heel to toe He turned to me and Cap says he I'll cash in this trip I guess And if I do I'm asking that you won't refuse My last request. Well he seemed so low that I couldn't say no And then he says with a sort of moan It's the cursed cold And it's got right hold Till I'm chilled clean through to the bone Yet ain't being dead It's my awful dread of the icy grave pains So I want you to swear That foul affair Will cremate my last remains Now a pal's last need Is a thing to heed So I swore I would not fail And as we started on at the streak of dawn But God he looked ghastly, pal He was crouched on the sleigh And he raved all day Of his home back in Tennessee And before nightfall The corpse of all that was left of Sam McGee There wasn't a breath in that land of death And I hurried, horror-driven The corpse half hid That I couldn't get rid Because of a promise given It was lashed to the sleigh And it seemed to say You may tax your brawn and brains But you promised true And it's up to you to cremate those last remains Now a promise made Is a debt unpaid And the trail has its own stern code And in the days to come Although my lips were dumb In my heart How I cursed that load In the long, long night By the lone firelight While the huskies, round in a ring Howled out their woes To the homeless snows God, how I loathed the thing And every day That quiet clay Seemed to heavier and heavier grow And on I went The dogs were spent And the grub was getting low The trail was bad And I felt half mad But I swore I would not give in And I'd often sink To the hateful thing And it hearkened with a grin Till I came to the marge of Lake LaBarge And a derelict there lay It was jammed in the ice But I saw on a trice That it was called the Alice May And I looked at it And I thought a bit And I looked at my frozen chum Then here, said I With a sudden cry Is my crematorium Some planks I tore From the cabin floor And I lit the boiler fire Some coal I found That was lying around And I heaped the fuel higher The flames just soared And the furnace roared Surplays that you seldom see And I burrowed a hole In those glowing coals And I stuffed in San McGee Then I made a hike For I didn't like to hear him sizzle so And the heavens scowled And the huskies howled And the wind began to blow It was icy cold But there's hot sweat Rolled down my cheeks And I don't know why And the greasy smoke And an inky cloak Went streaking down the sky I do not know how long In the snow I wrestled With this sort of grisly fear But the stars came out And they dounced about Here again I ventured near I was sick with dread But I bravely said I'll just take a peek inside I guess he's cooked And it's time I looked Then the door I opened wide And there sat Sam Looking cool and calm In the heart of the furnace roar And he wore a smile You could see a mile And he said Please close that door It's fine in here But I greatly fear He'll let in the cold and storm Since I left Plum Tree Down in Tennessee It's the first time I've been warm There are strange things done In the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold The Arctic trails have their secret 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 marsh Of Lake LaBarge I cremated Sam McGee