Even so those else unfooted heights we clomb
⁠Through scudding mist and eddying whirls of cloud,
Blind as a pilot beaten blind with foam,
⁠And shrouded as a corpse with storm's grey shroud,

Foot following foot along the sheer strait ledge
⁠Where space was none to bear the wild goat's feet
Till blind we sat on the outer footless edge
⁠Where darkling death seemed fain to share the seat,

The abyss before us, viewless even as time's,
⁠The abyss to left of us, the abyss to right,
Bid thought now dream how high the freed soul climbs
⁠That death sets free from change of day and night.

The might of raging mist and wind whose wrath
⁠Shut from our eyes the narrowing rock we trod,
The wondrous world it darkened, made our path
⁠Like theirs who take the shadow of death for God.