Here you will find the Poem North Labrador of poet Harold Hart Crane
A land of leaning ice Hugged by plaster-grey arches of sky, Flings itself silently Into eternity. 'Has no one come here to win you, Or left you with the faintest blush Upon your glittering breasts? Have you no memories, O Darkly Bright?' Cold-hushed, there is only the shifting moments That journey toward no Spring - No birth, no death, no time nor sun In answer.
