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OCR Page 1 of 32
THE ARCTIC CIRCLE
What is it draws a man away
From all that's dear to him down there--
From culture, comfort, love of friends,
Position- all in fact that tends
To make life worth a passing care:
And lures him within it's arms?
There's nothing here to please the eye
Or ear, or any sense one ownes.
The wind- it has a stinging breath--
The landscape bears the face of death
Like charred and bleached out dead men's bones,
And yet, where lies the charm?
The common lot of such a man
Is shipwreck (or by rare good luck)
A winter's home in a reeking hut
That staves off freezing, ah yes -- but
It leaves him in the spring.
Can it be the spell of that solemn quiet,
That reigns in the dead of a polar night--
The falcon's call in the mountain pass
Or the groaning, muttering Mer de Glac
Or the crunching ice pack's awful might?
Will this sound give a clue to the charm?
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