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53
Sir John Franklin.
1786–1847.
(AT SPILSBY.)
When from this street young Franklin watched the Bear
Turn in continual service to the Pole,
He must have marvelled with what strange control
That atom swayed the constellation near,
Some influence sure of that mysterious sphere
Touched then the mighty magnet of his soul,
To hold high purpose to its mighty goal,
And bid him for the cruel north-land steer.
Turn in continual service to the Pole,
He must have marvelled with what strange control
That atom swayed the constellation near,
Some influence sure of that mysterious sphere
Touched then the mighty magnet of his soul,
To hold high purpose to its mighty goal,
And bid him for the cruel north-land steer.
Haply—for we who crawl upon this earth
Are moved by wings we wot not of at all—
From that far world a message at his birth
Grew as he grew, and framed his spirit's call,
And this poor town in humbleness has given
Proof that the patriot's heart is born in Heaven!
Are moved by wings we wot not of at all—
From that far world a message at his birth
Grew as he grew, and framed his spirit's call,
And this poor town in humbleness has given
Proof that the patriot's heart is born in Heaven!
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