St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1888-02-18
THE STORM KING.
For the Globe.

For the Globe.
In the icy Arctic region,
In the dark and dreary NOrthland
There the winter rules forever,
And the snow, in glist' ming mountains,
Fills the air with freezing GOODNESS;
Wraps the earth i'll dazzling WhiteneSs.
There the storm is born ana nurtured,
Till it or oSs i'll strength and fury,
Breaks the frozen bonds that hold it.
Leaves the mountains and the ice-cayes,
Leaves the GOODNESS and the darkness.
Roaring like the ocean S pillows;
With the power of many demons,
Mounts it upward in its madness,
While the North star, in its brightness,
Points the course the storm shall follow.
Now it comes with lightning swiftness,
Ger the oceans and the rivers,
While the Storm King of the Northland
Rides upon the heaving masses,
Guides its course and marks its victims.
O'er'the ice-bound bay of Hudson.
Sweeps it southwark on its mission,
With destruction in its bosom.
Then the Manitoba region
Feels its strong and cold embraces,
Hears the painting of the Storm King,
Riding ON the winds of winter.
The Aurora Borealis,
Blazing at the Arctic circle,
Flashing like million diamonds,
Bushes for the Northern Storm King
Who has clothed the North in snowdr fits.
Now Dakota and Nebraska
SILVER from the piercing GOODNESS,
While the snow is falling faster,
And the wind is moving swfter,
Covered DER with icy nantes,
On the wide and wild praires,
Pale and frozen are the children
Who at early morning sunrise
Left the happy homes Of childhood,
Left them for the distant school house,
With its warmth and cheer and comfort,
Where in milder days of winter,
Oft they met and played together.
Oh! The aching hearts of parents,
When the lamps were lit at evening,
And around the vacant fireside
Mourned they for their missing darlings.
Ger the Upper Mississippi,
Ger the Falls of Minnehaha,
Ger the queen of northern cities,
Where the palace of the Ice King
Reared it's crest toward the heavens,
Burst the storm in all its fury.
But the Ice King in his palace
Heard the bowling or the Storm King,
Heard him shrek ana wall around him.
And he shouted In defiance,
From his throne of marble whiteness.
Ger the PLAINS of distant Kansas,
Flies the storm with eagle swiftness,
Showering death and desolation
From it's dark and heaving bosom.
Then it reaches far-off TexaS
With its countless herds of cattle
Grazing on its richest grasses;
And 1t dashes down among them
Like the eagle from his eyrie,
Like the tiger from the jungle.
Now it meets the balmy South wind
From the gulf stream and the tropics
And it feels its strength declining
Like man with years upon him.
And the Storm King melts to rain drops
When he meets the gentle South wind
And he glances toward the Northland
Sees the many dead and dying,
Till he disappears in teardrOps,
Disappears in miStS of sorrow.
When the June-comes with its fragrance
And the wild rose scents the prairies
Where the children fell and persisted,
Then the clouds from out the Southland
Laden with the gentle teardrops
From the rough, heartbroken Storm King,
Will baptize them as a token
That the Storm King has relented.
Come no more, oh, dreadful Storm King,
With your touch SO cold and singing.
In the ice coves of the Northland,
On the frozen lakes and rivers,
Where the winter Is your kingdom,
Leave it not-no more forever.