The summit speaks of solitude and ice
But O, what air! These crystal spirits bite
The soul, and gift mind\'s eye the clearest sight
Of valley life beneath, its ev\'ry vice
And shame displayed. No more will dark suffice
To teach, or clarify the mind now white
Deep shrouds the land; for I have seen the light
And now no more will souls beneath entice.
In summers past I walked the southern way
Down idle paths of burning coals; I sought
The warmth, but felt the fire, for in that hell
I sold my soul for mess. I cannot say
Where Eden lies, yet here is where I wrought
My soul, at peace before the final bell.