6. I sought where-so the wind blows keenest. There

I learned to dwell

Where no man dwells, on lonesome ice-lorn fell,

And unlearned Man and God and curse and prayer?

Became a ghost haunting the glaciers bare?

7. Ye, my old friends! Look! Ye turn pale, filled o’er

With love and fear!

Go! Yet not in wrath.

Ye could ne’er live here.

Here in the farthest realm of ice and scaur,