Classic Poem

Ho! hast thou shoulders, Giant?
Thy limbs are strong enough?
Thy knees are staunch and pliant?
And are thy sinews tough?

Ah! Child, Thou need'st a zephyr,
Said Giant Christopher;
I use to lift a heifer;
And to compel the bear.

Then, Giant, lift thy burden;
Be not indifferent;
Albeit thy only guerdon
Must be accomplishment.

Breath deeply, whilst I heave Thee,
Lay hold my stubborn locks;
I count not Child, to leave Thee
Deep fallen on the rocks.

Then on, My Giant featly,
But first take staff in hand;
Have care to wade discreetly,
And bring Me safe to strand.

Oft had the Giant wandered,
But for a Light that gleamed;
Whereof he deeply pondered,
Supposing that he dreamed.

All night I stride defiant
Across a span of stream,
Quoth Christopher the Giant;
I labour in a dream.

What strange thing doth betide me?
For all my members quake;
My bones are faint inside me;
My sinews knot and ache;

My wits are all astounded;
My face is hoar with salt;
I walk in deeps unsounded
When straight the Light cried: Halt!

Thou'rt weary. Dost thou wonder,
O Giant? Thou hast borne
The Father of the thunder
Himself, from morn to morn.