Gloating grimly on the feelings Hobbs and Nobbs will strive to smother,
When they learn the Gross Narr Nadel has been just “bagged” by another:
Hobbs and Nobbs, who, slily stealing to our Grün Alp telescope,
May find solace in revealing how you faltered on the rope.
Mountain Midgets—thus I hail you, who to littleness your own
Fain would drag down Nature’s Greatest, leave earth’s minster-spires alone!
Yet in vain an old man preaches. What is brought shall still be found,
Still the raw, relentless athlete make the Alps his running-ground;
Still the Greater breed the Lesser on through infinite degrees,
And the mountains have their Midgets—as the glaciers have their fleas.