Reva 


will come, blighting our harbingers of spring,
XIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort Sea
Against this sky no longer of our world.
The purest form is always the one
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
Preface to the 1948 Edition
And the wide arrowhead the road itself
Beyond ice floe and berg and ice-bound sea,
Blurring the terrain,
But what I am looking at is hardened snow,
With my foot the supple ball, for perhaps
He is harsh, dismal, ice-that is, exiled;
and the Splendid Splinter. For a few dreamy dollars,
IX. After the Great Northern Expedition
(Our fortitude grows dim in
XVI. Laying a Ghost: The Jeannette and the Fram
At the end of the road. Even if they are staring
And the wide arrowhead the road itself
the foul pole relaxes. She's raged all afternoon

