Plummet the infinite and make to thy fancy wings;
From crystal, and coral, and weed, up to man in his noblest race,
The weaker shall fail in his need, and the stronger shall hold his place!
RENANUS loquitur:
Ah! leave me yet a little while, to watch
The golden glory of the dying day,
Till all the purple mountains gleam and catch
The last faint light that slowly steals away.
Too soon the night is on us; aye, too soon
We know the cloud is born of blinding mist: