Henry Alford

Sonnet LVII. Summit Of Skiddaw, July 7, 1838.

At length here stand we, wrapt as in the cloud In which light dwelt before the sun was born, When the great fiat issued, in the morn Of this fair world; alone and in a shroud Of dazzling mist, while the wind whistling loud Buffets thy streaming locks:--result forlorn For us who up yon steep our way have worn, Elate with hope, and of our daring proud. Yet though no stretch of glorious prospect range Beneath our vision,--neither Scottish coast Nor ocean--island, nor the future boast Of far--off hills descried,--I would not change For aught on earth this solitary hour Of Nature's grandest and most sacred power.