Have pity, You alone whom I adore 
From down this black pit where my heart is sped, 
A sombre universe ringed round with lead 
Where fear and curses the long night explore. 

Six months a cold sun hovers overhead; 
The other six is night upon this land.
No beast; no stream; no wood; no leaves expand. 
The desert Pole is not a waste so dead. 

Now in the whole world there's no horror quite 
so cold and cruel as this glacial sun, 
So like old Chaos as this boundless night;

I envy the least animals that run, 
Which can find respite in brute slumber drowned, 
So slowly is the skein of time unwound.