Finis Coronat Opus

A cliff face rises as the sun Climbs up to midday bright, Casting forth his light upon Advent’rers scaling heights On treach’rous rock they slow ascend With careful feet they climb, And grasp with fingers deft, as wind Blows gently, like a sigh. They seek the crest, which grants at last A view unmatched in peer, Where valleys wander, ‘neath the path Along the skyline clear. Then will they rest, and take their ease, ‘Ere vent’ring farther still, And linger as they gaze, well-pleased Upon the land of hills.

‘Neath the black of winter’s sky Bleak and chill, and cold, so dry, Spy I in the distance, soft, Gliding in the wind aloft; Drifting snowflakes, daintily Falling, dancing gracefully, With a peaceful silence, lilt O’er the land so dimly lit. Snowdrifts pile like castle walls Rise ‘neath famous arch-lord’s thrall, Glist’ning ‘neath the sparsest light, Bright’ning spirits through the night.