Through the world which the Spirit creative and kind <br />First formed out of chaos, I fly like the wind, <br />Until on the strand <br />Of its billows I land, <br />My anchor cast forth where the breeze blows no more, <br />And Creation's last boundary stands on the shore. <br /> <br />I saw infant stars into being arise, <br />For thousands of years to roll on through the skies; <br />I saw them in play <br />Seek their goal far away,-- <br />For a moment my fugitive gaze wandered on,-- <br />I looked round me, and lo!--all those bright stars had flown! <br /> <br />Madly yearning to reach the dark kingdom of night. <br />I boldly steer on with the speed of the light; <br />All misty and drear <br />The dim heavens appear, <br />While embryo systems and seas at their source <br />Are whirling around the sun-wanderer's course. <br /> <br />When sudden a pilgrim I see drawing near <br />Along the lone path,--"Stay! What seekest thou here?" <br />"My bark, tempest-tossed, <br />I sail toward the land where the breeze blows no more, <br />And Creation's last boundary stands on the shore." <br /> <br />"Stay, thou sailest in vain! 'Tis INFINITY yonder!"-- <br />"'Tis INFINITY, too, where thou, pilgrim, wouldst wander! <br />Eagle-thoughts that aspire, <br />Let your proud pinions tire! <br />For 'tis here that sweet phantasy, bold to the last, <br />Her anchor in hopeless dejection must cast!"<br /><br />Friedrich Schiller<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-greatness-of-the-world/
