The West Wind

The King and Queen of the Esquimaux Came forth from the royal palace to go On a ringing sledge with a great dog team ’Neath the clear still stars and the fitful gleam Of the northern lights, on a long night ride To the Pole and back, for the Queen was a bride, And this was their wedding tour, heigh-ho! For the ride of the royal Esquimaux!

The King was proud and the Queen was fair, Though you wouldn’t have known it had you been there; For they wore white fur from top to toe, And you couldn’t tell t’other from which although The King felt taller, though ’twas hard to see, While the Queen was taller--horizontally. At any rate when ready to ride The King couldn’t reach round his royal bride.

The dogs were eager, they set them free; They flew over snow and the frozen sea; And the breath of the dogs and the King and Queen Like little plumes in the cold so keen Turned to frosty flakes that twinkled bright. The rosy glow from the northern light Grew pale and wan in the snapping cold; But the dogs raced on for the King was bold. On the cold white earth, ’neath the cold, cold sky From the frozen sea to the glaciers high, There wasn’t a living, breathing thing Save the racing dogs and the Queen and King.

The cooling Queen, in esquimau, Said, “Dear, how far are we to go?” The King’s teeth chattered but he managed to say, “I have vowed on this our wedding day To show my bride how the world turns ’round, And so, my dearest, we are bound For the cold north pole--” I regret to say That she broke in here in a certain way That isn’t confined, as some folks know, To the land of ice and the Esquimaux. “Of course,” said she, “I’d love to go To the ends of the earth with you, but O, I would never dare to go in sight Of the old north pole on such a night.” Now the King was young and the King was bold, And also newly married, behold! He cracked his whip; with right good will The dogs flew northward faster still. But though this was his wedding day, The King expected the Queen to say A word or two of protest--no, Not a word was heard from her although Against her will she was hurried away; So he turned--imagine his deep dismay, She was white and still and frozen, alack! The King saw why she didn’t talk back. Now whatever the King was, he wasn’t slow; He yelled the esquimau word for “whoa.” They stopped and turned and the cracking whip Urged the dogs due south at a good round clip. Said the King, “O, Zephyrus, come and blow,” (He was talking still in esquimau) “Blow north; I know that you like best To fan warm lands from the warm, far west, But just for once do come and blow And melt Jack Frost, my family foe; And thaw my Queen, it’s surely plain That a frozen Queen can’t help me to reign!”

And Zephyrus heard and softly blew, And Jack Frost heard the sound and knew The time had come for him to flee; And he fled far north to the frozen sea. The stars grew soft and the floating frost Was turned to mist, and the Queen had lost Her death-like pallor; a pink flush rose To her cheeks and--alas--to her little flat nose. Her eyelids fluttered and opened and then She began the unfinished discussion again. She looked at the King and said, “I’m bound That I never shall see how the world turns round.” And she didn’t. The King from that day forth When he took her to drive never dared to turn north. Alas, when they came to their palace of ice, They found it a puddle that didn’t look nice; For well-meaning Zephyrus just didn’t know That enough is enough when they ask you to blow. So the King and Queen spent more than a year In a rented tent, while an engineer And an architect, at a very high price, Built a brand-new palace of brand-new ice. And there they lived and, as you’ll foresee, Were just as happy as happy could be.

But Zephyrus, as his wife fortold, Came home with a very serious cold; And though he improved, yet even today, When he blows through a pine tree on his way, He wheezes asthmatically all the way through. Just listen some time and you’ll find this true.