(When day was beautiful to me80

80

As to young eagles, being free)—

A polar day, which will not see[10]

A sunset till its summer's gone,

Its sleepless summer of long light,

The snow-clad offspring of the sun:

And thus he was as pure and bright,

And in his natural spirit gay,

With tears for nought but others' ills,

And then they flowed like mountain rills,

Unless he could assuage the woe90

90

Which he abhorred to view below.

V.

The other was as pure of mind,

But formed to combat with his kind;

Strong in his frame, and of a mood

Which 'gainst the world in war had stood,

And perished in the foremost rank

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