The pilot of the Antarctic Wrote at the end of his life A long letter to a friend. He who had been the hunted, the exile, the fugitive, Was now happy, surrounded by books. I think of him as I read, Of his ambiguous seas, Of the whale and the island That were his fate, And of his house in the dust of Illinois With the books and the old weapons. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOVE RIVER ANTHOLOGY, BY OWN WILLIAM WORDSWORTH: LUCY GRAY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SHELLEY AND TRELAWNEY by JULIA COOLEY ALTROCCHI SONNET: 4 by RICHARD BARNFIELD HAMPTON TOWN by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN THE BIRTHDAY by RHYS CARPENTER THE LAST VICTORY by MARY SOPHIA CASE |