F thou wouldst stand on Etna's

burning brow,

With smoke above, and roaring

flame below;

And gaze adown that molten

gulf reveal'd,

Till thy soul shudder'd and thy

senses reel'd.—

If thou wouldst beard Niag'ra in his pride,

Or stem the billows of Propontic tide;

Scale all alone some dizzy Alpine "haut,"

And shriek "Excelsior!" amidst the snow.—

Wouldst tempt all deaths, all dangers that may be,—

Perils by land, and perils on the sea,—

This vast round world, I say, if thou wouldst view it,—