ALPS ON ALPS

A little learning is a dang'rous thing ;

Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring :

There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,

And drinking largely sobers us again.

Fired at first sight with what the Muse imparts,

In fearless youth we tempt the heights of Arts ;

While from the bounded level of our mind

Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind,

But, more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise

New distant scenes of endless science rise !

So pleased at first the towering Alps we try,

Mount o’er the vales, and seem to tread the sky ;

Th' eternal snows appear already past,

And the first clouds and mountains seem the last ;

But those attain'd, we tremble to survey

The growing labours of the lengthen'd way ;

Th' increasing prospect tires our wand'rings eyes,

Hill peep o’er hills, and Alps on Alps arise !

Alexander Pope:  From  An Essay On Criticism (1709)

Colley Cibber: The Blind Boy

O say what is that thing call’d Light,

Which I must ne’er enjoy;

What are the blessings of the sight,

O tell your poor blind boy!

You talk of wondrous things you see,

You say the sun shines bright;

I feel him warm but how can he,

Or make it day and night?

My day and night myself I make

Whene’er I sleep or play;

And could I ever keep awake

With me tw’ere always day.

With heavy sigh I often hear,

You mourn my hapless woe;

But sure with patience I can bear

A loss I ne’er can know.

Then let not what I cannot have

My cheer of mind destroy:

Whilst thus I sing I am a king,

Although a poor blind boy.

Sonny Boy Williamson: Eyesight To The Blind (Link)