So we came at last to a tundra vast and dark and grim and lone;
And there was the little lone moose trail, and we knew it for our own.
Sorry of heart and sore of foot, weary men were we.
The short-lived sun had a leaden glare and the darkness came too soon,
And stationed there with a solemn stare was the pinched, anaemic moon.
Silence and silvern solitude till it made you dumbly shrink,
And you thought to hear with an outward ear the things you thought to think..Excerpt from the Ballad of the Northern Lights by R. Service
Abstract of the Canadian North…Watercolour on Arches Not Paper…View large for best effect….
More works from the Collection of Night Paintings