Upon what deed of hazardous emprise,
Bold Comet, dost thou come? From vistas deep
Of space, thou hurriedly dost sweep,
Self-shining, with thy trail athwart the skies,
To greet the golden sun. Nor comest thou
Alone—a myriad more press on thy track,
In wild excursion; soon to measure back
The ebon distances. Come, tell us, now,
Why unannounced, strange visitant! once more,
So suddenly thou burstest on our sight,