Page:Poems (1853).djvu/44

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32
AN IMITATION.

’Twas gained, that mountain’s stormy pass;
But, chilled beside a mer de glace,
My heavy heart in vain would soar,—
The heart hears not “Excelsior!”

The heart’s home is the vale below,
Where kind words greet, where fond eyes glow;
It withers ’neath those frozen skies,
Where the aspiring thought would rise.

Above me the eternal snows
In the cold sunlight’s glare arose,
And a dread Presence seemed to brood
O’er the appalling solitude.

But now, on that unquiet dream,
Did one of stateliest aspect beam;
Whose brow thought’s kingly impress bore,
Whose soul thrilled to “Excelsior!”

Though but one moment o’er my way
Did the bright form beside me stay;
In that pale brow and speaking eye,
Methought I saw my Destiny!

And as, far up the heaven-crowned height,
Thou seem’dst to vanish from my sight;