Which cruised where the cod and the haddock shoal, at the rock-ribbed island’s feet.
And it shouted and roared a pæan, to the heroes who’d carried a flag,
A bit of a piece of red, white, and blue, to the spot where the ice-drifts sag,
As it southward flew, it grew and it grew, ’til it roared out a rollicking psalm,
To Peary, MacMillan, Borup; brave travelers, silent and calm.
Southward it sang its slogan, where the tossing palm groves sway,
And it rolled out a cheer of three times three, for “Uncle Sam and the U. S. A.!”
PIERRE ESPRIT RADISSON: