Poem by Richard Henry Stoddard

The Sledge at the Gate

           Lapland

I WOULD run this arrow straight into my heart
Sooner than see what I saw to-night.
I harnessed my rein-deer, mounted the sledge,
And skimmed the snow by the northern light.
The thin ice crackled, the water roared,
But I crossed the fiord:
I reached the house when the night is late,
What's this? A deer and a sledge at the gate!

The eyes of Zela are winter springs!
But the wealth of summer is in her hair;
But she loves me not, she is false again,
Or why are the sledge and the rein-deer there?
I throw myself down, face-first in the snow:
"Let the false one go!"
She never shall know my love, or my scorn,
For I shall be frozen stiff in the morn.

The sharp winds blew, and my limbs grew chill.
I knew no more till I felt the fire.
They rubbed my breast, and they rubbed my hands,
And my life came back like a dark desire.
She spake kind words, and smoothed my hair,
But the sledge was there!
"Ah false, but fair!" It was all I said,
I struck her down, and away I fled.

I mounted my sledge, and the rein-deer flew,
In the wind, in the snow, in the blinding sleet:
The wolves were hungry--they scented my track--
But I fought them back!
I fear neither wolves, nor the winter's cold,
For the faithless woman has made me bold.

1. Adsum
2. The Flight of the Arrow
3. Lincoln's Birthday
4. Twilight on Sumter
5. The Sea

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