Child of the desert! pilgrim of the gloom!

Dark is the path which leads thee to the tomb!

While on thy faded cheek the arctic air

Congeals the bitter tear-drop of despair!

Yet not that fate condemns thy closing day

In that stern clime to shed its parting ray;

Not that fair nature’s loveliness and light

No more shall beam enchantment on thy sight;

Ah! not for this—far, far beyond relief,

Deep in thy bosom dwells the hopeless grief;