So pleas'd 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'ring eyes, Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise! Alexander Pope, Essays on Criticism II