James Beattie

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!

Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn:
But lofty souls, who read more

Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn:
But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb,
Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn.

Rocks, torrents, gulfs, and shapes of giant size
And glitt'ring cliff on cliffs, and fiery ramparts rise.

Rocks, torrents, gulfs, and shapes of giant size
And glitt'ring cliff on cliffs, and fiery ramparts rise.

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
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At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.

How sweet the words of Truth, breath'd from the lips of Love.

How sweet the words of Truth, breath'd from the lips of Love.