Scale, if thou canst not rest, the age-long peaks,
Look from the heights on little worlds and men,
Cling panting to the topmost tow'rs of earth!
And lest there still abide thine own vain worth,
Know that each awe-filled breath thou takest in,
Each step that brings thee to the glacier's dome,
Are thine from Him within whose outstretched hand
Abide the hills which thou dost call thine own.
When grim Himal'ya's wilderness of peaks
Lay leagues beneath the prehistoric sea;
Before the flame begot the hidden gold,
Or ever Eden's torrent sprang fourfold.
The undetermined spheres had their decree;
Had each their law of Him whose Word is light,
From everlasting unto sun's eternal,
Who was, and shall remain, unmoved in might.
One who attained the pinnacle of Life,
Was with divinest rapture whitely drest;
Yet, high-companioned with the vision's glow,
Made glad return to waiting fields below,
And bade all lean on his transfigured breast;
And for the lack—the more there went abroad,
By grace of loving words and garment's hem,
The truth which healed, and drew men up to God.
