376 PARTING OF PASSENGERS.
who were approaching native land and home, the truth of the great moralist s axiom was realized, that " there is always some degree of sadness in doing any thing for the last time." Hereafter, with the memory of each other will doubtless blend the terrific sublimity of that Arctic scene, which it was our privilege to witness, and the thrill of heartfelt gratitude to our Almighty Pre server.
��There was a glorious sunset on the sea, Making the meeting-spot of sky and wave A path of molten gold. Just where the flush Was brightest, as if Heaven s refulgent gate One moment gave its portals to our gaze, Just at that point, uprose an awful form, Rugged and huge, and freezing with its breath The pulse of twilight. Even the bravest brow Was blanched, for in the distance others came, Sheer on the far horizon s burning disk, Attendant planets on that mass opaque.
They drifted toward us, like a monster-host,
From Death s dark stream. High o er old Ocean s
breast,
And deep below, they held their wondrous way, Troubling the surge. Winter was in their heart, And stern destruction on their icy crown. So, in their fearful company the night Closed in upon us.
�� �
