O wretched race of men, to space confined!
What honour can ye pay to him, whose mind
To that which lies beyond hath penetrated?
The symbols he bath formed shall sound his praise,
And lead him on through unimagined ways
To conquests new, in worlds not yet created.
First, ye Determinants! in ordered row
And massive column ranged, before him go,
To form a phalanx for his safe protection.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem