He who holds fast to one enduring dream— Letting its beauty thrill his eager heart, Living his days in a strange world, apart, Strengthened and fed by Hope's eternal gleam— Treads the far heights that to his comrades seem Vast and remote. His flying fancies dart To the wide stretches where great visions start— Visions deep rooted in his golden dream Are these "New worlds" he looks upon at last? These lonely lands that men have never trod; Vast, unexplored, measured by no mute rod? Forgotten all the scoffing of the Past, The ridicule—in this new scene so vast All bears the mighty signature of God. |