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On a Lichen from North Cape
Gathered by Mr. J. M. Richards, July 3d, 1874
Where no tree nor grass can grow,
On a far northern hill,
This humble lichen brought to me,
Doth their place in Nature fill.
On a far northern hill,
This humble lichen brought to me,
Doth their place in Nature fill.
470
Food for the reindeer fleet,
And e'en for human kind,
Do such as live in that region cold
In thy tiny leaflets find.
And e'en for human kind,
Do such as live in that region cold
In thy tiny leaflets find.
There all is strange and new;
For there, there is no night;
On thy native hill the midnight sun,
Unquenched, shines warm and bright.
For there, there is no night;
On thy native hill the midnight sun,
Unquenched, shines warm and bright.
Long, long is the Winter time,
With no returning day;
But instead the moon, or stars' faint light,
And the red auroral ray.
With no returning day;
But instead the moon, or stars' faint light,
And the red auroral ray.
And the ocean, like the land,
Doth its mystery retain;
No ship has sailed to the farther shore,
And returned o'er the trackless main.
Doth its mystery retain;
No ship has sailed to the farther shore,
And returned o'er the trackless main.
Yet still, o'er that pathless sea,
Doth man's spirit restless go;
Seeking to reach its farthest bounds,
And its secrets all to know.
Doth man's spirit restless go;
Seeking to reach its farthest bounds,
And its secrets all to know.
And thou, from that far-off Cape,
Hast come a new bond to be,
'Twixt this our land and the frozen North,
With its mysterious sea.
Hast come a new bond to be,
'Twixt this our land and the frozen North,
With its mysterious sea.
Poem No. 806; 3 July—18 August 1874
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