NINE MONTHS IN THE ARCTIC. 237 



" fix the sinner's wandering eye," guide many a 

 son of the ocean, and lead him to say, — 



It was my guide, my light, my all ; 



It bade my dark forebodings cease ; 

 And, through the storm and danger's thrall, 



It led me to the port of peace. 



Now, safely moored, my perils o'er, 



I'll sing, first in night's diadem, 

 Forever, and forevermore, 



The Star — the Star of Bethlehem ! 



