We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further: it may be
Beyond that last blue ...

When the hearts of mothers are scratched by moan
When the reason and spirit are captured by sorrow
...

I

Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight
The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
...

Like an ant who uneasily acquires knowledge

Under His knowledge's light many mainlands are bright...