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[390] And called her home to peace and rest. We love her!”

The stranger paused and read.
     ‘O winter land!’ he said,
“Thy right to be I own;
     God leaves thee not alone.
And if thy fierce winds blow
     Over drear wastes of rock and snow,
And at thy iron gates
     The ghostly iceberg waits,
Thy homes and hearts are dear.
     Thy sorrow o'er thy sacred dust
Is sanctified by hope and trust;
     God's love and man's are here.
And love where'er it goes
     Makes its own atmosphere;
Its flowers of Paradise
     Take root in the eternal ice,
And bloom through Polar snows!”


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1881 AD (1)
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