THE SONG OF THE INNUIT 



369 



Oh, we are the Innuit people, 



And we lie secure and warm, 

 Where the ghostly folk of the Nunatak 



Can never do us harm. 

 Under the stretching walrus-hide, 



Where at the evening meal 

 The well-filled bowl cheers 

 every soul, 



Heaped high with steam- 

 ing seal. 



The Awful Folk of the 

 Nunatak 



Come down in the hail and snow, 

 And slash the skin of the kayak thin, 



To work the hunter woe. 

 They steal the fish from the next day's dish, 



And rot the walrus lines 

 But they fade away with the dawning day, 



As the light of summer shines. 



Oh, we are the Innuit people, 

 Of the long, bright Arctic day : 



When the whalers come and 



the poppies bloom, 

 And the ice-floe shrinks 



away: 



Afar in the buoyant umiak, 

 We feather our paddle 



blades, 



And laugh in the light of the sunshine bright, 

 Where the White Man's schooner trades. 



Oh, we are the Innuit people, 

 Rosy and brown and gay; 



