Classic Poem

( I. M. LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE: OCTOBER 1ST , 1938)

Two nights ago I stood in that street of Tromso
Where Amundsen stands in bronze. It was the place
Whence that bleak man of perilous journeys rose
Upon steel wings to begin that other journey
From which he could not return. It was midnight then:
And from a bar of smoky, fire-shot cloud
A sun that could not set swerved in the sky,
Again ascendent, as though in reluctant toil,
Above the dark, forsaken quays of Tromso —
Where winged ships come no more.

And there my thought was of a vanished friend —
And how the winged things go from us, as though,
However wings arrive, their ultimate purpose
Is to withdraw and seek a different plane —
Ascendent as light in its source.

But light returns, not lost; exists again.
Beloved spirit of fire and light, we need you:
Age was not your condition, too soon you left us.
Young conception continued in you through change.
When radiance of light had disappeared
In the illumination of common noon;
When light descendent touched with level glow
Us, and it seemed a thing belonging to age;
A day-spring shone in you still for us who knew
Your mind would lighten still at the righTword spoken,
A flash with the edge of a blade.
Your mind leapt like a flame-thrower to the assault
When life and vision were threatened, or someone shrank.
I who have known you, know you are existing:
You were a captain in our age, and still
You cannot be less. Dear light that appeared to set,
You go before us still, you cannot set.
You know what is to come; when we too know,
We shall be with you still.