III.

E’en where thy sight doth fail thou givest not o’er, But still “beyond the red” thy spectraphone The ray invisible transforms to tone, Thus winning from the silence more and more; Wherein thou buildest new worlds from shore to shore With hills perpetual and with mountains lone; To music moving pond’rous stone on stone As unto Orpheus’ lyre they moved of yore. Still, Science, lightning-winged! thy way pursue! Beyond the farthest sweep of farthest sun, Beyond the music of the sounding spheres Which chant the measures of the months and years, Toward realms that e’en to daring Thought are new Still let thy flying feet unwearied run.