[Dr. FRIDTJOF NANSEN'S Arctic Expedition sailed from
Christiania in the _Fram_ on June 24.]
So Dr. FRIDTJOF NANSEN'S off!
Cynics will chuckle, and pessimists scoff.
What a noodle, that Norroway chap,
Who'd drift to the Pole to--complete our map!
Year after year in the broad-beam'd _Fram_,
Far from Society's "Real Jam,"
Away from the fjords, and Five o'Clock Tea,
Amidst the ice of the Kara Sea;
Certain of darkness, discomfort, and frost,
With an excellent prospect of getting lost,
Crunched in the ice-pack, frozen, or starved,
Whilst Mansion-House Banquets are being carved;
Over the snow like pale ghosts flitting,
Missing the sweets of an All-Night Sitting!
Alone in a canvas-bottom'd bunk,
When gossip is gabbled, and toasts are drunk,
Where Good Society's geese gregarious,
Hiss malignant, or cackle hilarious!
Well, who knows? Those Arctic snows
May bore _men_ less than our Social Shows;
And utter aridity starve the soul
More in the House than the Northern Pole!
Here's to NANSEN! Here's to his crew!
We know they'll venture what men may do.
Good luck and good cheer be Heaven's gift
To the _Fram_ and her men on that long, long drift!
And if they win through the Polar pack,
May _Punch_ be foremost to welcome them back.
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