Sought to contrive, intending to express
That this mud draws on the stone.
II. List of Franklin Search Parties
I draw near to one of them, the lowest,
"Now it's my turn to sing!"
The form sought for centuries by
They move against, or through, or by, or toward.
XIII. The Route to the North
Against this sky no longer of our world.
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
Late February, and the air's so balmy
Choces, Mère and Père, undreaming even of fields
From there. Toward . . .
Against this sky no longer of our world.
I do not betray you, I still go forward,
Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,
No name, no meaning. Oh my friends,
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
Of meaning like these—the world created by
That this mud draws on the stone.
II. List of Franklin Search Parties
I draw near to one of them, the lowest,
"Now it's my turn to sing!"
The form sought for centuries by
They move against, or through, or by, or toward.
XIII. The Route to the North
Against this sky no longer of our world.
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
Late February, and the air's so balmy
Choces, Mère and Père, undreaming even of fields
From there. Toward . . .
Against this sky no longer of our world.
I do not betray you, I still go forward,
Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,
No name, no meaning. Oh my friends,
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
Of meaning like these—the world created by
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