Ii

If souls could travel as can thought, Beyond the farthest arcs that span Imagination, what would man Not know and see at last? One would explore the stars; and one Would search the moon and one the sun And tell us of their past.

And one would seek out Hell; and, wise In tortures of the damned, return To tell us if they freeze or burn, And where God's red Hell lies: And one would look on Heaven; and, mute With memories of harp and lute, Sit silent as the skies.

But I--on condor wings would sweep To some new world, and, soaring, sit 'Mid firmaments volcano-lit, And see creation heap Its awful Andes, vague and vast, About its Inca-peopled past, While deep roared out to deep.