The Northland

I found this poem in a soft-bound and faded collection of poetry at Caroline's cabin near Ely. The poet, Alison Brown, is a woman who lived in Duluth. Her little volume was published in 1923. When I read it, I felt a little pang of regret-- I wish I could have been friends with Alison...

The Northland

I never knew until I tried to go,
The mystery and enchantment of the North;
The countless cords that draw me back although
The cry is in my heart to venture forth.

I never knew that calm bright stars could talk,
Or rugged cliff, or rivulet, or hill;
Or that the presence of majestic rock
Could cast o'er me so mystical a spell.

I never knew that pine trees, tall and gaunt,
Could beckon with their branches to my heart;
Or that the sighing winds had power to haunt
And hold me with the magic of their art.

I never knew that woodlands snowy white,
That ice-bound streams, or glimpse of glistening bay
Could still a restless heart with vision bright,--
The clear, cold picture of a winter day.

I tried to go and thought that I was free
To answer any voice that whispered, "come,"
But now I know the bonds that fasten me,--
The Northland ever was and is my home.