Look down! About your ice-bound dome
No summit lifts a friendly crown
To break your frozen solitude,
Or claim a share of your renown.
Look down! All else is sky. Look down!
On hill andplain; on sea and town;
On clouds, those stately ships that ride
Upon the rushing, Arctic tide
That sweeps and eddies 'round your throne
Atop the shattered cone, alone.
Look down! Oh, grim, forbidding goal
Whose glistening challenge stirs the soul.
Look down, and glory in your height;
Recall your ancient, thundering might,
While at your feet the crater's breath
Alone proclaims its sleep-not death.
It waits, perhaps, your slightest frown
To wake. Oh Tamanous, look down!

Natt Dodge, Ranger-
Naturalist. 1933.