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Rasmussen:

Now there was nothing more to do,
no notes to write and leave in cairns,
no measurements to take, no
Readings of any temperatures
save the inner
Agony of the blood.
Now, Crozier, now you come
To the end of science.

Crozier:

(speaking slowly, painfully)

We scattered our instruments behind us,
and left them where they fell
Like pieces of our bodies, like limbs
We no longer had need for;
we walked on and dropped them,
compasses, tins, tools, all of them.
Now we come to the end of science...

Now we leave our ciphers in the snow,
We leave our instruments in the snow.
It is the end of science.
What magnet do I know of
Which will pull us south...?
none,
none but the last inevitable
one.
Death who draws
Death who reaches out his pulling arms
And draws men in like filings
on paper.

This is the end of science.
We left it behind us,
A graph in the snow, a horrible cipher,
a desperate code.
And the sun cannot read, and the snow
cannot either.

- Gwendolyn MacEwen, Terror & Erebus