LADY FRANKLIN.[ON HER DEATH, 1875.]
In shadowy ships, that freeze,
We think of men who sail, the frozen-fated;
Tears, if you will, for these.
But oh, the truest searcher of the seas
In the blown breath of English daisies waited.
We think of men who sail, the frozen-fated;
Tears, if you will, for these.
But oh, the truest searcher of the seas
In the blown breath of English daisies waited.
A pathway, here or there,
He sought—the old, unlighted Pathway finding:
Out of the North's despair,
Out of the South's flower-burdened wastes of air,
To that great Peaceful Sea forever winding.
He sought—the old, unlighted Pathway finding:
Out of the North's despair,
Out of the South's flower-burdened wastes of air,
To that great Peaceful Sea forever winding.
Oh, after her vague quest
Among weird winds, in icy deserts, lonely,
Has she laid down to rest
Under a Palm, whose light leaves on her breast
Drop balms of summer, sun and silence only?
Among weird winds, in icy deserts, lonely,
Has she laid down to rest
Under a Palm, whose light leaves on her breast
Drop balms of summer, sun and silence only?
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