Japhet, are as distinctly marked in their poetry, as they are in their complexions and craniological features.
Dr. Skallagrimston is of Icelandic extraction, and of a very old and respectable Danish Family in that island, of which the inhospitable nature of the climate is so strongly strongly contrasted with the hospitable manners of the inhabitants. He has resided, however, in the vicinity of London, for the last ten years, dedicating his time and talents to the prosecution of his studies in the northern dialects. There is a daily beauty and respectable simplicity about his private life, while his philosophical researches have already done much to advance the great cause of learning, by illustrating the history of the past. He is the personal friend of the Rev. Egil Peter Geirson; with whose name some of our readers may be more familiar than with his own.
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Whom mighty dogs, rejoicing, drew to war,
And of the warrior multitudes who past
Round where the unfathomed cave extends afar.
Who heard the ice-bound rock split, unaghast,
And saw new suns, and many a fiery star,
I sing in numerous verse—that their renown
May thus to all posterity go down.
Wonderful are thy doings, Witch of Cold!
The frozen gossamer web that cuts the skin,
The hoar frost piled fantastic on the old
Substantial hills, the sea that boils within
And steams from all its waters manifold,
Until the frost-smoke clears, and first the thin
And then the solid ice spreads, white and strong,
These are thy works to thee I wake the song.
Queen of the long long winter, when the sleep
Of living death is wrapped round bears and men!
I love thy reign full well, for I can keep
Well pleased with those I love my lowly den;
Hear the dread iceberg thunder from its steep;
Or mark the bright moon shining now and then;
Until thine enemy, the God of Fire,
Unbinds the ice and bids thy sway expire.
