R. B.
His soul went singing like a mountaineer
Who climbs the hills, and carols as he climbs;
Above the snows he heard the faëry chimes
Of God's faint bells, and felt no shade of fear.
He leaped in faith from year to glimmering year;
Nothing to him seemed poor or vile or vain,
Since all the fibres of his heart and brain
Were braced by hope's high Alpine atmosphere.
I have known no goodlier spirit! Where he walked,
Love masqueraded in rough skins and claws,
Feigning to be some monster of the woods;
Loud was the voice wherewith he rhymed and talked,
But warmer heart, or moved in kindlier cause,
Was never stirred by man's vicissitudes.
Who climbs the hills, and carols as he climbs;
Above the snows he heard the faëry chimes
Of God's faint bells, and felt no shade of fear.
He leaped in faith from year to glimmering year;
Nothing to him seemed poor or vile or vain,
Since all the fibres of his heart and brain
Were braced by hope's high Alpine atmosphere.
I have known no goodlier spirit! Where he walked,
Love masqueraded in rough skins and claws,
Feigning to be some monster of the woods;
Loud was the voice wherewith he rhymed and talked,
But warmer heart, or moved in kindlier cause,
Was never stirred by man's vicissitudes.
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