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Rudyard Kipling - Quiquern
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The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow—
  They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.
  The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight;
  They sell their furs to the trading-post; they sell their souls to
         the white.
  The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler`s 
         crew;
  Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.
  But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man`s ken—
  Their spears are made of the narwhal-horn, and they are the last
        of the Men!
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