What instinct forces man to journey on, Urged by a longing blind but dominant! Nothing he sees can hold him, nothing daunt His never failing eagerness.
The sun Setting in splendour every night has won His vassalage; those towers flamboyant Of airy cloudland palaces now haunt His daylight wanderings.
Forever done With simple joys and quiet happiness He guards the vision of the sunset sky;
Though faint with weariness he must possess Some fragment of the sunset's majesty;
He spurns life's human friendships to profess Life's loneliness of dreaming ecstasy.
