Читать книгу Ballads of Bravery - Various - Страница 10

ALOFT upon an old basaltic crag,

Which, scalped by keen winds that defend the Pole,

Gazes with dead face on the seas that roll

Around the secret of the mystic zone,

A mighty nation’s star-bespangled flag

Flutters alone;

And underneath, upon the lifeless front

Of that drear cliff, a simple name is traced, —

Fit type of him who, famishing and gaunt,

But with a rocky purpose in his soul,

Breasted the gathering snows,