Wherein thou buildest new worlds from shore to shore

With hills perpetual and with mountains lone;

To music moving pond’rous stone on stone

As unto Orpheus’ lyre they moved of yore.

Still, Science, lightning-winged! thy way pursue!

Beyond the farthest sweep of farthest sun,

Beyond the music of the sounding spheres

Which chant the measures of the months and years,

Toward realms that e’en to daring Thought are new

Still let thy flying feet unwearied run.