Classic Poem

O see!—do blows at his breast,
And fangs at his back,
Do perils and pains that pressed,
And doubts in a pack
That hunted to drag him down,
Triumph—and now
Does he sink, who climbed for the crown
To the Summit's brow?

No!—though at the foot he lies,
Fallen and vain,
With gaze to the peak whose skies
He could not attain,
The victory is, with strength—
No matter the past!—
He'd dare once again the dark length,
And the fall at last!