An Ode on the Marble Arch Mound
My knee aches, and a weary glumness drains
All hope of ever climbing to the top
Where from a grey and gloomy sky the rains
On soggy sedum turf begin to drop.
‘Tis not for want of keenness I advance
Nor fear of failure though the way be hard
But for an opportunity, perchance,
To spot the distant London Eye or Shard!
Thou wast not built to last, O transient mound
Raised on a skeleton of scaffold poles,
But for a while to soar above the ground
And thrill with glorious views our earthbound souls.
Yet once atop, forlorn I stand and gaze
Through mist at naught my eyes had longed to greet,
And in the gloom of drizzle drear and haze,
I barely see the turf beneath my feet.
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