XI. Franklin's Last Voyage
to try that, to hold a terrifying beastFigures of light and dark, these two are 
walking
XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest PassagesIs dumb; he is the mute white stony 
shape
Is the moon to growV. The Dutch in the Arctic
The edge of that other square cut from the rightand chaste, lovely as lakes to 
the retired men
Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-byeXVII. Greenland
By bloody pool—rattling, gasping his last.Dreaming time has reversed, I watch 
drowned snow
And beyond, the same sound of beesAgainst which we have been projected? What . 
. .
They move against, or through, or by, or toward.That neither the motionless 
farm couple trudging
So, startled, quivering,To listen, by the sputtering, smoking fire,


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