In reply to Mountain Lass:
The Cragsman.
In this short span
between my fingertips on the smooth edge
and these tense feet cramped on the crystal ledge
I hold the life of man.
Consciously I embrace
arched from the mountain rock on which I stand
to the firm limit of my lifted hand the front of time and space: -
For what is there in all the world for me
but what I know and see?
And what remains of all I see and know
if I let go.
With this full breath
bracing my sinews as I upward move
boldly reliant to the rift above
I measure life from death.
With each strong thrust
I feel all motion and all vital force
borne on my strength and hazarding their course
in my self trust:-
There is no movement of what kind it be
but has its source in me:
And should these muscles falter to release
motion itself must cease.
In these two eyes
that search the splendour of earth, and seek
the sombre mysteries on plain and peak
all vision wakes and dies.
With these my ears
that listen to the sound of lakes asleep
and love the larger rumour from the deep
the eternal hears: -
For all of beauty that this life can give
lives only while I live;
And with the light my hurried vision lends
all beauty ends.
Geoffrey Winthrop Young
from “Freedom”.