Dreamers.

Fools laugh at dreamers, and the dreamers smile In answer, if they any answer make: They know that Saxon Alfred could not bake The oaten cakes, but that he snatched his Isle Back from the fierce and bloody-handed Dane. And so, they leave the plodders to their gains— Quit money changing for the student's lamp, And tune the harp to gain thereby some camp, Where what they learn is worth a kingdom's crown; They fashion bows and arrows to bring down The mighty truths which sail the upper air; To them the facts which make the fools despair Become familiar, and a thousand things Tell them the secrets they refuse to kings.