Читать книгу A Book of Christian Sonnets - william Allen - Страница 26

22. On Jacques Balmat. (notes)

Mont Blanc! That he first gain'd thy snow-built height

Was his great pride and boast. Yet crevice deep

Became his sudden grave, where he doth sleep,

Slid in some icy chasm with wild affright,

Shut out from human reach and human sight.

Of man's strange pride, for which the angels weep,

From this a useful lesson let man reap,

Whatever point he gains by struggling might.

First scholar, artist, genius of the age,

First with the sword or with the tongue's debate,

Poet strong-wing'd or philosophic sage—

However loud the trump, that calls thee great—

Proud, boasting worm! just think of poor Balmat,

In ice-chink plung'd from all his high eclat!