Question

Every night I am at home in my dreams, but when the morning Breaks,

I must gallop back,
back to the reaml of. eternal ice.

A summer day, 81 degress north latitude. It us lovely, a poem of clear white sunbeam refracted in the cool crystal blue of the ice, so wonderfully calm and still.
Not a sound to be heard
but the drip
drip
drip
of water from a block of ice
or the dall thud of a snow-slip from
some hummack.
My thoughts fly free and far
in the profound peace of the Arctic solitude.
Surely the drift

Will become faster and faster as we get farther northwest.
Why should not this winter
carry the fram
to someplace north,
north of franz Josef Land,

Then off I'd fly

With dogs and sledges
to the point where the earth's
axis ends.

And the whole
would go
like a dance!

4. How does the narrator feel at the end of the poem? What makes you think this? ​

Answer 1

Answer:

Really i not got....

...

Answer 2

Answer:

Copied the whole poem