Page:The Poems of Henry Kendall (1920).djvu/129

 Stands the steadfast Mountain Giant,

Grim, reliant,

Dark as Death, and firm as Fate.

So when trouble treads, like thunder,

Weak men under—

Treads and breaks the thews of these—

Set thyself to bear it bravely,

Greatly, gravely,

Like the hill in yonder seas;

Since the wrestling and endurance

Give assurance

To the faint at bay with pain,

That no soul to strong endeavour

Yoked for ever,

Works against the tide in vain.

fares it with the man whose lips are set

To bitter themes and words that spite the gods;

For, seeing how the son of Saturn sways

With eyes and ears for all, this one shall halt

As on hard, hurtful hills; his days shall know

The plaintive front of sorrow; level looks

With cries ill-favoured shall be dealt to him;

And this shall be that he may think of peace

As one might think of alienated lips

Of sweetness touched for once in kind, warm dreams.

Yea, fathers of the high and holy face,

This soul thus sinning shall have cause to sob

Ah, ah," for sleep, and space enough to learn

The wan, wild Hyrie's aggregated song

That starts the dwellers in distorted heights,

With all the meaning of perpetual sighs

Heard in the mountain deserts of the world,

And where the green-haired waters glide between

The thin, lank weeds and mallows of the marsh.