Uncheer’d by fame, yet silently upborne

By promptings more divine!

Go, shoot the gulf of death!

Track the pure spirit where no chain can bind,

Where the heart’s boundless love its rest may find,

Where the storm sends no breath!

Higher, and yet more high—!

Shake off the cumbering chain which earth would lay

On your victorious wings—mount, mount! Your way

Is through eternity!