D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930), Fantasia of the Unconscious
(New York: Thomas Seltzer, 1922), p. 5:
The promised land, if it be anywhere, lies away beneath our feet. No
more prancing upwards. No more uplift. No more little Excelsiors
crying world-brotherhood and international love and Leagues of
Nations. Idealism and materialism amount to the same thing on top of
Pisgah, and the space is very crowded. We're all cornered on our
mountain top, climbing up one another and standing on one another's
faces in our scream of Excelsior.
To your tents, O Israel! Brethren, let us go down. We will descend.
The way to our precious Canaan lies obviously downhill. An end of
uplift. Downhill to the land of milk and honey.