My first attempt at iambic pentameter .... very nearly successful!

There is some comfort in a temperate clime.
A steadiness of soul found only there.
The days all pass in rhythm and in rhyme.
No storms to rage nor sunshine more than fair.

Safety dwells in landscapes flat and low.
Where eye can see all that lies ahead.
Surprise can't hide, nor trouble bid its woe.
Time marches straight and steady without dread.

Yet absent wind how can the calm be known?
And absent gloom how can the sun seem bright?
Does rain not cleanse, and senses sharply hone?
And storm-filled darkness birth the day's warm light?

If no deep valley menacing and bleak,
Where danger lurks and pain leads to despair,
Then no ecstasy of reaching the high peak,
For 'tis the peak which cast the shadow there.

So through the trough of hardship let us go,
And all our heart and will and strength employ.
The path indeed is difficult and slow,
But worth the agony to find the joy.