Another poem, which bore evidence to me of an inspiration acting upon me, and external to myself, was the “Song of the North,” relating to the fate of Sir John Franklin and his men. I was desired to write an illustration for a plate, about to appear in the “Lily of the Valley,” an Annual published by J. M. Usher, of Cornhill, Boston. I endeavored to do so, but day after day passed by and my labor was in vain, for not one acceptable idea would suggest itself. The publisher sent for the article, but it was not in being. One day, however, I was seized with an indefinable uneasiness. I wandered up and down through the house and garden, till finally the idea of what I was to do became clearly defined; then, with my paper and pencil, I hastened to a quiet corner in the attic, where nearly all my poems had been written, and there I wrote the Song of the North--so rapidly, that it was scarce legible, and I was obliged to copy it at once, lest I should lose the connection. The next day it seemed as foreign and strange to me as it would to any one who had never seen it. At the time this was written (in April, 1853) strong hopes were entertained of the discovery of Franklin and his men, together with their safe return; therefore I hesitated to make public that which seemed a decided affirmation to the contrary. Nevertheless, so strong were my convictions as to the truth of the poem, that I allowed it to be published. Later revelations concerning the fate of that brave adventurer and his companions gave to the poem somewhat of the character of a prophecy.