whose soft bristles graze the top-racks. I. Arctic SceneryWrithing their stunted limbs, To pick up even the quickening of windFor any part of them we can make out XIII. The Route to the NorthSits at the limit of a kind of world Where does this all end? What is the vanishingToward something that the world is pointing toward VI. Smeerenburg and the Whale-Oil RushXVI. Laying a Ghost: The Jeannette and the Fram giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,Archangel Winter, darkness on his back Sphinx of questioning substance, or a sortXVIII. The Northeast and Northwest Passages I've drifted somewhat from the distant heartAt the white place of the road's vanishing snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,Sits at the limit of a kind of world
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