- A noiseless patient spider,
- I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
- Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
- It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament out of itself,
- Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
-
- And you O my soul where you stand,
- Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
- Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to
- connect them,
- Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
- Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.