AFTER ten thousand centuries have gone, Man will ascend the last long pass to know That all the summits which he saw at dawn Are buried deep in everlasting snow. Below him endless gloomy valleys, chill, Will wreathe and whirl with fighting cloud, driven by the wind's fierce breath; But on the summit, wind and cloud are still: -- Only the sunlight, and death. And staggering up to the brink of the gulf man will look down And painfully strive with weak sight to explore The silent gulfs below which the long shadows drawn; Through every one of these he passed before. Then since he has no further heights to climb, And naught to witness he has come this endless way, On the wind-bitten ice cap he will wait for the last of time, And watch the crimson sunrays fading of the world's latest day: And blazing stars will burst upon him there, Dumb in the midnight of his hope and pain, Speeding no answer back to his last prayer, And, if akin to him, akin in vain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE STATE OF WYOMING by KAREN SWENSON THE CRICKET by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN TO THE NIGHTINGALE by PHILIP AYRES IN THE DARK by FRANCES LOUISA BUSHNELL THE COUNTRY LIFE; BALLAD TO A FRENCH TUNE by PATRICK CAREY |