“There, in the icy, solitary waste,
God’s goodness grants this boon,—that thou shalt see,
And hold communion for a little space
With that dear child so lately gone from thee.
Arise, and haste away; God may not let her stay.”
So we arose, and quickly we went forth;
How could we slight such all undreamed-of boon?
And when we reached the ultimate far North—
All in a hush of frozen afternoon,
Lit by a dim sun-ray, liker to night than day—