Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG OF THE NORTH, by ELIZABETH DOTEN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG OF THE NORTH, by                    
First Line: Away, away! Cried the stout sir john
Last Line: That can hold a human soul.
Alternate Author Name(s): Doten, Lizzie
Subject(s): Franklin, Sir John (1786-1847)


"In March, of 1854, says the Cleveland Herald, several months before the
arrival of Dr. Rae, with his news of the probable death of the brave Sir John
Franklin and his faithful comrades, we copied from the Lily of the Valley for
1854, a beautiful poem by Miss Lizzie Doten, in reference to these adventurers.

The verses are touching and solemn as the sound of a passing bell, and appear
almost prophetic of the news that afterwards came. 'The Song of the North'
again becomes deeply interesting as connected with the thrilling account brought

home by the Fox—the last vessel sent in search of the lost adventurers to
the icy North, and the last that will now ever be sent on such an
expedition."—Buffalo Daily Republic.

"AWAY, away!" cried the stout Sir John,
"While the blossoms are on the trees,
For the summer is short, and the times speeds on
As we sail for the northern seas.
Ho! gallant Crozier, and brave Fitz James!
We will startle the world, I trow,
When we find a way through the Northern seas
That never was found till now!
A good stout ship is the 'Erebus,'
As ever unfurled a sail,
And the 'Terror' will match with as brave a one
As ever outrode a gale."

So they bade farewell to their pleasant homes,
To the hills and the valleys green,
With three hearty cheers for their native isle,
And three for the English Queen.
They sped them away, beyond cape and bay,
Where the day and the night are one—
Where the hissing light in the heavens grew bright,
And flamed like a midnight sun.
There was nought below, save the fields of snow,
That stretched to the icy pole;
And the Esquimaux, in his strange canoe,
Was the only living soul!

Along the coast, like a giant host,
The glittering icebergs frowned,
Or they met on the main, like a battle plain,
And crashed with a fearful sound!
The seal and the bear, with a curious stare,
Looked down from the frozen heights,
And the stars in the skies, with their great, wild eyes,
Peered out from the Northern Lights.
The gallant Crozier, and brave Fitz James,
And even the stout Sir John,
Felt a doubt, like a chill, through their warm hearts thrill,
As they urged the good ships on.

They sped them away, beyond cape and bay,
Where even the tear-drops freeze,
But no way was found, by a strait or sound,
To sail through the Northern seas;
They sped them away, beyond cape and bay,
And they sought, but they sought in vain,
For no way was found, through the ice around,
To return to their homes again.
Then the wild waves rose, and the waters froze,
Till they closed like a prison wall;
And the icebergs stood in the sullen flood,
Like their jailers, grim and tall.
O God! O God!—it was hard to die
In that prison house of ice!
For what was fame, or a mighty name,
When life was the fearful price?

The gallant Crozier, and brave Fitz James,
And even the stout Sir John,
Had a secret dread, and their hopes all fled,
As the weeks and the months passed on.
Then the Ice King came, with his eyes of flame,
And looked on that fated crew;
His chilling breath was as cold as death,
And it pierced their warm hearts through!
A heavy sleep, that was dark and deep,
Came over their weary eyes,
And they dreamed strange dreams of the hills and streams,
And the blue of their native skies.

The Christmas chimes, of the good old times,
Were heard in each dying ear,
And the dancing feet, and the voices sweet
Of their wives and their children dear!
But it faded away—away—away!
Like a sound on a distant shore,
And deeper and deeper grew the sleep,
Till they slept to wake no more.

O, the sailor's wife, and the sailor's child,
They will weep, and watch, and pray;
And the Lady Jane, she will hope in vain,
As the long years pass away!
The gallant Crozier, and brave Fitz James,
And the good Sir John have found
An open way, to a quiet bay,
And a port where we all are bound!
Let the waters roar on the ice-bound shore,
That circles the frozen pole;
But there is no sleep, and no grave so deep,
That can hold a human soul.





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