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Normale Version: F-A-I-L-U-R-E
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F-A-I-L-U-R-E

I climbed full easy up the wooded height,
And walked the upland's flowering slopes in May;
Then walls rose sheer, and glaciers barred the way,
But worse than all a mist took all my light,
And blotted out the crest that lured my sight.
I tried again; but storms drove me astray,
And forced me to retreat--to close the day
With failure on the darkling fields at night.
Yet from the valley where I rest awhile
I gaze with joy upon the peak's white throne,
Proud of the heights that still my dreams beguile,
And humbly happy in my lower zone
That still the highest beckons with a smile
To broader, grander outlooks than my own.