Where laced up leather boots so softly tread
Beneath spiral columns of spindrift snow
Time freezes in the ice where he lies dead

A gnarled old man with two teeth in his head
Prays to Chomolunga from down below
Where laced up leather boots so softly tread

One month before, Gray’s elegy they read
Whilst they waited for the storm winds to slow
Time freezes in the ice where he lies dead

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