(With thoughts of Leslie Stephen) ALOOF, as if a thing of mood and whim; Now that its spare and desolate figure gleams Upon my nearing vision, less it seems A looming Alp-height than a guise of him Who scaled its horn with ventured life and limb, Drawn on by vague imaginings, maybe, Of semblance to his personality In its quaint glooms, keen lights, and rugged trim. At his last change, when Life's dull coils unwind, Will he, in old love, hitherward escape, And the eternal essence of his mind Enter this silent adamantine shape, And his low voicing haunt its slipping snows When dawn that calls the climber dyes them rose? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LET ME NOT LOSES MY DREAM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PEACE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 6. SUNSET IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON VENUS IN A GARDEN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. SIBLEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THEY PRAISE THE SUN by JOHN CROWE RANSOM |