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 is mine

and fewer men might say...

 

who titled in their Kingly Guise

and raised beyond their means,

would ever see through open eyes

the folly of their dreams.