LIEUTENANT ADOLPHUS W. GREELEY by EDWARD NOYES POMEROY

Genial companion of my army days,
Here, sitting in the soft, enchanted light
Of home, before my glowing anthracite,
I think of wastes of snow, of iced-closed bays,
Of the near North with its auroral blaze;
Of ghostlike Nature in her gown of white—
Somnambulist that roameth through the night,
With horror fascinating all that gaze.

But more than all beside, I think, dear friend,
Of thee and thy heroic band forlorn,
For whose return so many prayers ascend,
Now waiting for the tardy Arctic morn,
Determined still to battle to the end
And win "the victory of endurance born."

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