Training my telescope, I spied
A lonely mountain, trying to hide.
"Onward, men!" I grandly cried,
"We'll climb up to the top!"
Half way up and we couldn't see.
My men called out "Where can we be?
Not up, not down. We all agree
This climbing lark's a flop!"
Soon, the mist vanished like a ghost;
We saw land spread like buttered toast.
From here you can see to France, almost.
But our climbing had to stop!
What now to do? I scratched my head.
"We can't go up any more." I said.
"So let me think......the way ahead
Is downwards, at a gallop!"