Page:Lost Galleon (1867).djvu/82

80 And reverberate the boast

From the cliffs of Beechey's coast,

Till the tidings, circling round

Every bay of Norton Sound,

Throw the vocal tide-wave back

To the isles of Kodiac.

Let the stately polar bears

Waltz around the pole in pairs,

And the walrus, in his glee,

Bare his tusk of ivory;

While the bold sea unicorn

Calmly takes an extra horn;

All ye polar skies, reveal your

Very rarest of parhelia;

Trip it, all ye merry dancers,

In the airiest of lancers;

Slide, ye solemn glaciers, slide,

One inch further to the tide.

Nor in rash precipitation

Upset Tyndall's calculation.

Know you not what fate awaits you,

Or to whom the future mates you?