Classic Poem

Where will the ladder land? Who knows?—who knows?
He who would seize the planet zone by zone
As on a battlemarch, for use alone,
Nor stops for visionary wants and woes
But like the Bruce's, on, his heart he throws
And leaves behind the dreamer and the drone?
Great is his work indeed, his service great,
Who seeks for Nature but to subjugate,
Break and bereave, build upward and create
And, hampering her, to carry heave and drag
Points to results,—towns, cables, cars and ships.
Whilst I in dim green meadows lean and lag,
He counts his course in truth by vigorous steps,
By steps of stairs; but I add crag to crag.