Classic Poem

Th' attentive fishers, Greenland's choicest swains,
Enraptur'd listen, and approve his strains;
The nymphs on Ajutt cast an envious eye,
And wish their fate with such a swain to try;
While she, tho' pleas'd, exults in beauty's pride,
The tender flame she feels, resolv'd to hide.

But now the long-expected God of day
Began once more on sparkling frost to play;
The snow dissolves, long-stagnant waters rise,
A new creation greets their raptur'd eyes;
The Greenland youths the happy omen hail,
Prepare for combat with the mighty Whale;
With active ardour all renew their toil,
And count in thought the treasures of their oil;
Foremost, in all, see Anningait appear,
For lovely Ajutt deigns the toil to share;
Her presence animates the hero's mind,
He rush'd on danger fleeter than the wind,
With agile arm th' astonish'd Sea-horse strook,
And drew him, panting, on his well-fix'd hook;
In utmost depths the diving Seal pursu'd,
And pierc'd the Whale, with sinewy strength endu'd:
And when, with loaded bark, to land they steer,
With active skill he caught the dappled Deer;
Their glossy skins he dress'd to deck his bride,
But hope and anxious fear his breast divide;
For still fair Ajutt further proof demands,
Ere nuptial rites should join their plighted hands;
To distant shores commands the youth to rove,
To find if absence could abate his love;
In search of wand'ring Whales she bids him roam,
To crown their board when winter call'd him home;
He must comply — implicit he obeys,
Her will is law; what more a lover sways?
Yet, ere he parts, her tent with flow'rs he strews,
Refresh'd with sweetest of the Iceland dews;
Balmy as Ajutt's breath, the new-born flow'rs
Might vie for fragrance with Arcadian bow'rs;
These as he strew'd, to Ajutt thus he said,
— Attend, and mark, inexorable maid:
— See, in these blossoms, beauty's short-liv'd pow'r,
— Beauty as fading as the morning flow'r;
— This hour presents them lovely to thy view,
— Impearl'd with fragrance, deck'd in orient dew;
— Another comes, no more they cheer thine eye,
— And ere a third revolves, they droop and die:
— Such, my lov'd Ajutt, is the life we boast,
— A transient dream, which ere enjoy'd is lost:
— Why wilt thou then enforce this harsh command,
— And drive me wretched to some distant strand?
— Why wilt thou not my plighted vows receive,
— And be my partner on the boist'rous wave?
— Then could I fearless ev'ry danger try;
— What danger can I dread when Ajutt's nigh?
— O! virgin, beauteous as the sunny beam,
— Which glitt'ring dances on the limpid stream,
— Once more reflect, recall the sad decree,
— Be just to Ajutt, and be kind to me;
— Think, ere I go, what frosts, what fogs may rise,
— And join'd, preclude my charmer from my eyes;
— Thou know'st, my fair, our clime, condemn'd to frost,
— Of days and nights alternate cannot boast,
— Like those gay climes, by lying strangers told,
— Where houses screen them from the inclement cold;
— Ere my return, dread Winter's bird may sing,
— And night o'ertake me with an eagle's wing;
— What then, in those lone months, can cheer my soul?
— Not Seal delicious, nor the flowing bowl;
— The flaming lamps, without thy eyes, would fade,
— Nor healing oil could cure the wound they've made. —