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The Climber’s Dream

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I made an ascent of the Eiger

Last year, which has ne’er been surpassed;

‘Twas dangerous, long, and laborious,

But almost incredibly fast.

We started at twelve from the Faulberg;

Ascended the Monch by the way;

And were well at the base of our mountain,

As the peak caught the dawn of the day.

In front of me Almer and Perren

Cut steps, each as big as a bucket;

While behind me there followed, as Herren,

George, Stephen, and Freshfield, and Tuckett.

We got to the top without trouble;

There halted, of course, for the view;

When clouds, sailing fast from the southward,

Veiled over the vault of dark blue.

The lightning shone playfully round us;

The thunder ferociously growled;

The hail beat upon us in bullets;

And the wind everlastingly howled.

We turned to descend to the Scheideck,

Eyes blinded, ears deafened, we ran,

In our panic and hurry, forgetting

To add a new stone to the man.

Palinurus himself-that is Almer-

No longer could make out the track;

‘Twas folly, no doubt, to go onward;

‘Twas madness, of course, to go back.

The snow slope grew steeper and steeper;

The lightning more vividly flared;

The thunder rolled deeper and deeper;

And the wind more offensively blared.

But at last a strong gust for a moment

Dispersed the thick cloud from our sight,

And revealed an astonishing prospect,

Which filled not our hearts with delight:

On our right was a precipice awful;

On the left chasms yawning and deep;

Glazed rocks and snow-slopes were before us,
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