Peace to his dream that found ghastly close
Mid the sheeted wraiths of the arctic snows!
Not as came Fulton; even he
Came brooding at the level of the sea,
Elect among the genius-brood of men,
Grandson of Ireland, son of the land of Penn,
Pale-browed, nursing a great work-day dream—
Harnessing the racers of the deep to steam
Here first his Clermont turned her paddle blades,
And so, our flag above his craft unfurled,