Classic Poem

CLVIII

Against the rock I climb, both high and hard,
When at the foot the ford doth bray so loud
That, save the heart so faithfully had vowed,
Seeing from the foot in midway I was forward,

.............................;
No heart so hardy nor courage that could
Adventure to climb so high a shroud,
Hope bids me hope of pain the right reward.
Now past the vales of danger and despite,
Mounted the rock of love and perfect joy,
Bained in the ford, despair to wash away,
Hoping hereafter from dark to find the light,
Brought to the highest, am of the deepest aghast.
For dread to fall, my hand, now hold thee fast.