Where are the Poets, unto whom belong <br />The Olympian heights; whose singing shafts were sent <br />Straight to the mark, and not from bows half bent, <br />But with the utmost tension of the thong? <br />Where are the stately argosies of song, <br />Whose rushing keels made music as they went <br />Sailing in search of some new continent, <br />With all sail set, and steady winds and strong? <br />Perhaps there lives some dreamy boy, untaught <br />In schools, some graduate of the field or street, <br />Who shall become a master of the art, <br />An admiral sailing the high seas of thought, <br />Fearless and first, and steering with his fleet <br />For lands not yet laid down in any chart.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-harbour-possibilities/
