The iceberg's glow and melt it to their will:
Naught could their hungry rage of greed appease,
While luridly and sullen burned they still,
What, then, does it portray—this onslaught fierce
Of flames upon these sunlit cliffs of ice,
If it be not that Evil seeks to pierce
The armor thrown about the soul's device;
The powers that wage unceasing war,
And ever seek to gain what lies afar
Above them! "Souls of just men perfect made,"