Amid the gloom, there, on the pole, stands blackVII. Hudson and His Strait; Baffin and His BayThis gap in time, this season not their own,The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,XIII. The Route to the NorthAppear to lift up from the lake;V. The Dutch in the ArcticWind, sleet. The branches sway,Out of the picture of life, as it were, outIts consciousness of my white consciousness,Introduction by Vilhjalmur StefanssonPère and Mère Chose could be in conversationXX. To the PoleAgain awaken from your being gone to findOut of the road into a way acrossCascading snowflakes settle in the pines,Columbuses or Gamas, ever pass,XI. Franklin's Last Voyage
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