Where giant icebergs lift their horrent spires
And the blank scene a gelid fear expires,
Where oft the aurora of the northern night
Cheats with pale beams of ineffectual light,
Where icy Winter broods o’er hill and plain,
And Summer never comes, or comes in vain;
Yet here, e’en here, kind Nature grants to man
A boon congenial with her general plan.
Though no fair blooms to vernal gales expand,
And smiling Ceres shuns th’ unyielding land,