Classic Poem

Brave spirits, whose advent'rous feet
Have to the mountain's top aspir'd,
Where fair desert and honour meet:
Here, from the toiling press retir'd,
Secure from all disturbing evil,
For ever in my temple revel.
With wreaths of stars circled about,
Gild all the spacious firmament,
And smiling on the panting rout
That labour in the steep ascent,
With your resistless influence guide
Of human change th' uncertain tide.