Mel found this, the carol is near the end.
From summit post - a trip report titled Grand Anxiety about a climbing trip on the Grand Teton.
At this juncture, rigor mortis is beginning to set in and unless I get to the hut soon for a hot meal, I may be fodder for the mortician's table by midnight. I became increasingly frustrated by the pace. Finally, we conquered the pitch and after another twenty minutes of talus navigation we were at The Hut.
Nondescript. Not your father's Holiday Inn. Not your mom's Motel 6. Room for sixteen to sleep on the floor, arranged like sardines. Exum provides the sleeping bags and pads and a three burner gas-operated stove for heating water. Paper towels and defecation kits. That's it. After milling about and getting acquainted with our sleeping quarters, Kevin called a meeting and laid out the agenda for Friday's summit attempt. We would rise at three and begin climbing by four, achieve the summit before 8:30 and after a three to four hour descent, be back at the hut by noon. Nice plan.
With everyone's packs reorganized, hot meals ingested, and marching orders disseminated, we retired to our packs. I took a sleeping pill, inserted ear plugs, shut my eyes and proceeded to lay in my pack for 6.5 hours sleeping nary a minute. Ten climbers shifting, nine hikers sniffling, eight marmots searching, seven cowards crying, six people coughing, five guides were talking, four geezers farting, two lovers giggling.....one jackass snoring. At 12:30 a.m., to make matters worse, the wind started pounding the hut mercilessly. I guess the majority of the gusts were in the 50 mph range, with some hitting the 60-70 mph mark.