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He pauses—turns a look beneath!
What arm can save him now ? A dizziness comes o'er his brain,
A paleness o'er his brow !
His father's hand a strong noose flings From the high archway there;—
A moment, and that slight form swings, Suspended in the air.
And now the parent clasps his child, With tones of transport loud;
And mingled shouts of rapture swell From the assembled crowd.
Is it not thus with those who climb The dangerous heights of fame,
To write imperishahly there A name, an humble name ?
Genius must never slack his course, Nor pause to look beneath;
One reckless glance at sordid earth May bring impending death,—
Unless, thou venturous boy, like thine,
His Father's hand of love Send succour from the arch of heaven,
And take his child above.