Now, welcome home, ye valiant band,
By science lured to roam,
Thrice welcome to your native land,
To Britain's hearth and home;
For ye have conquered many a foe,
And vanquished many a fear,
Since in your country's name ye sailed
So bravely forth last year.

Then many a fervent "Good speed ye"
Was wafted from the land,
That blent with blessings from the ships,
For those left on the strand.
Hope streaming through each hot tear formed
Rainbows of promise sweet,
To comfort each lone sundered heart,
Till blest again to meet.

But eighteen months have passed away
Since those farewells were breathed,
And ye've accomplished what was wished
Without a sword unsheathed.
And with her royal chaplets light
Of honour and renown,
Your brows of manly fortitude
Britain delights to crown.

Ye've had the courage, nerve, and skill,
To do, and bravely dare,
That which none other save yourselves
Have had the joy to share.
In penetrating furthest yet,
Into that region lone,
Where grim uncompromising ice
Girdles the Polar Zone.

"The sea of ancient ice," henceforth
Inscribed on the world's chart,
Though never of that world to be
A sympathetic part;
Since mighty floating fortresses,
With adamantine towers,
Form everlasting barriers grim,
That mock man's feebler powers.

Heroic Nares! Commander bold
Of the well-ordered band,
Accept with thy intrepid crews,
Thanks from thy native land,
For having with determined zeal,
Reached a much longed-for goal,
And solved the mystery that veiled
The regions of the Pole.

Thus proving inacessible
The ice-ribbed polar sea,
Ye've earned your laurels valiantly,
Still it is well that we
Join ye in rendering fervent thanks,
To the Supreme above,
For safe return in joyous health,
To country, home and love.