THE DEMON SNOW-SHOES
The snow lies deep on hill and dale,
In rocky gulch and grassy vale:
The tiny, trickling, tumbling falls
Are frozen 'twixt their rocky walls
That grey and brown look silent down
Upon Kiandra's shrouded town.
The Eucumbene itself lies dead,
Fast frozen in its narrow bed;
And distant sounds ring out quite near,
The crystal air is froze so clear;
While to and fro the people go
In silent swiftness o'er the snow.
And, like a mighty gallows-frame,
The derrick in the New Chum claim
Hangs over where, despite the cold,
Strong miners seek the hidden gold,
And stiff and blue, half-frozen through,
The fickle dame of Fortune woo.
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