For some long journey, then again
He look'd awest toward the plain:
Toward the land of dreams and space,
The land of Silences, the land
Of shoreless deserts sown with sand,
Where desolation's dwelling is:
The land where, wondering, you say,
What dried-up shoreless sea is this?
Where, wandering, from day to day
You say, To-morrow sure we come