Come, swallows, it's good-bye. With its lament, it often sounds, instead,XXI. Flying in the Arctic To reach out into its own vanishingI bring down a bit of its light XVII. GreenlandLate February, and the air's so balmy Oh you builders,XI. Franklin's Last Voyage Silent patch of ultimate paint. You arePartly stone, partly the absence of stone, Are gliding toward me on the ice intoWhere lamps are lit: these, too, Across the heavens' gray.VII. Hudson and His Strait; Baffin and His Bay II. List of Franklin Search PartiesVIII. Russia: The Great Northern Expedition I am sleeping, and dreaming, and wandering alongThe form sought for centuries by
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