III.

Upon a mountain's dizzy height,

Ambition's temple gleams with light:

Proud forms are moving fair within,

And bid us strive that light to win.

O'er giddy cliff and crag we strain,

And reach the mountain top--in vain!

For lo! the temple, still afar,

Shines cold and distant as a star.

Poems(#11558) · 第 38 / 63 题