Step on step toward the crest

across timbered burn and stone,

where tumbling water knows no rest

save in the Loch below,

 

its rainy surge of silver gleam

frenetic in its fall,

like wealth hid in a black-rock seam

beyond the reach of all.

 

Yet onward, upward I will climb

against the easy way,

where greater joy than wealth be mine

and fewer men might say...

 

though titled in thin Kingly Guise

they rose beyond their means,

they ever saw through opened eyes

the folly of their dreams.