"Put on the brake!" Experience said;
"The stars, my boy, are overhead;
The pit of Tophet's deep and wide."
A sudden snarl of hate replied,
"Excelsior!"
"O stay," cried Sanity, "and cool
Thy fevered head in yonder pool!"
The balefire smouldered in his eye,
And still he muttered, hurtling by,
"Excelsior!"