So Love departs, as we draw near!
III.
Upon a mountain's dizzy height,
Ambition's temple gleams with light:
Proud forms are moving fair within,
And bid us strive that light to win.
O'er giddy cliff and crag we strain,
And reach the mountain top—in vain!
For lo! the temple, still afar,
Shines cold and distant as a star.