Colle del Gigante (now called the Mont Blanc Ski School); Ottone Bron. La Meije 1937<ref>Orion Marches (poems), Faber & Faber, London, 1939.</ref>For Ottone Bron: Killed on the Col du Geant, 1938Going down from the Aiguilles d'Arves, towards la Grave, With sunlight on the cornsheaves, and the evening voices, The fields already ripe with autumn crocus, We said nothing, but saw the Meije rise up across the valley. That was a climb for the next day, or the next; That was our country, there, high up, A world barely older than ourselves, and none too easy; But now we going down to the valley, Going down among the hotels and the autocars, Going down among the young men in flannels, and the fat mammas, Sightseers like ourselves, but easily contented, Speaking more kindly of us then we of them. This was our pleasure: to climb among the loose stones, to cut steps in ice, To find a new alternative to the mauvais pasTheirs was simpler, and we despised it. Perhaps we were right: A man should use every nerve and muscle, A man should puzzle out the hardest questions, A man should find words for thoughts that no one knows. At any rate, there was no room for us in at the big hotel. But the fields were filled with sunlight, We clattered noisily through the upper hamlets, Girls turned for a moment from the milking, And a boy with six goats shouted a greeting, To us, the intruders. Already Said My Host.: One of Mr Roberts' final poems; where the issue of his progressing illness and unavoidable conclusion are addressed: Already Said My Host. 'Already', said my host. 'You have arrived already? But by what route, what ingenious raccourci? I half expected you, it is true, But I expected someone a little older, Someone rather less arrogant and impulsive, Someone a little embittered and despondent, Someone, in short, not quite you. And now you arrive by some unfair expedient, Having neglected, no doubt, to pay proper attention to the view: You arrive a little dazed and flushed, And you find me hardly ready to receive you, hardly able to cope. It was inconsiderate of you to die so suddenly, Placing me in this ridiculous quandary. I had predicted a great future for you, A future without happiness or hope: I had prepared a suitable mausoleum for your reception: And now