The Old Man in the Mountain.

A mountain holds a paradise in which
Are multitudes of human pleasure found.
There, all alluring voices, sweet of pitch,
Contend to fashion peacefulness profound.
Who might inhabit this idyllic place?
How might they have, while all of us have not,
A heaven in creation’s fallen space,
Where one’s concerns are easily forgot?
An old, dilapidated man is he
Who dwells in this enchanted lair of bliss.
And whosoe’er his victims chance to be,
Are lost inside unsafe forgetfulness.
To see again the Eden to them shown,
They’ll hazard death, and fight empires alone.