Dost thou suppose it is from thee to me?
“And at the rate of travel thou dost creep
How long to bridge the distance would it take?
Yet I across its vastness nightly leap
While you a paltry rod of progress make.”
“I may be slow,” the snail vouchsafed reply,
“But then I’m no pretense, howe’er you twit;
Thou movest not at all except thy eye
And now as I perceive thy nimble wit.
“No doubt we both our mission magnify;