Strive not to stay, for we are made for motion!
Mistake not, mistake not!—let it go,
Bid it Godspeed, the everlasting flow
Of Man's free Mind, in endless evolution.
No reconfusing of an old confusion
Is this ye look on; man is born to grow.
Nature but twins herself to the fresh glow
Of each new Sun: the ever-rolling ocean
Hangs still, deep-axled on its own serene:
But not like this is Man; his Progress free
From new to new for ever;—what has been
May never be again;—his Race a Tree,
Which, rooted, growing in the Earth we see,
Destines its godlike head for heights unseen.