Poetry Archives

The beauty of the northern dawns,
  Their pure, pale light is thine;
Yet all the dreams of tropic nights
  Within thy blue eyes shine.
Not statelier in their prisoning seas
  The icebergs grandly move,
But in thy smile is youth and joy,
  And in thy voice is love.

Thou art like Hecla’s crest that stands
  So lonely, proud, and high,
No earthly thing may come between
  Her summit and the sky.
The sun in vain may strive to melt
  Her crown of virgin snow—
But the great heart of the mountain glows
  With deathless fire below.