Rugged! Rugged as Parnassus! Rude, as all roads I have trod Yet are steeps and stone-strewn passes Smooth o'erhead, and nearest God. Here black thunders of my canyon Shake its walls in Titan wars!...
While you seek gold in the earth, why, I See gold in the steeps of the starry sky; And which do you think has the fairer view Of God in heaven the dreamer or you?