... Look out if yonder be not day again Rimming the rock-row! That's the appropriate country; there, man's thought, Rarer, intenser, Self-gathered for an outbreak, as it ought, Chafes in the censer. Leave we the unlettered plain its herd and crop; Seek we sepulture On a tall mountain, citied to the top, Crowded with culture! All the peaks soar, but one the rest excels: Clouds overcome it; No, yonder sparkle is the citadel's Circling its summit. Thither our path lies; wind we up the heights! Wait ye the warning? Our low life was the level's and the night's: He's for the morning. ... — Library Of The World's Best Literature, Ancient And Modern, Vol 6 • Various
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