Whither, O wanderer of the upper space,
Dost thou, thro' regions of the empty air
Still urge perpetual thy trackless race,
Dost ever and forever onward fare?

We see thy flaming meteor at night,
When darkness first is touch'd with daylight glow,
When constellations pale their fading light,
And morn's first beams the firmament o'erflow.

Thro' all the lonely watches of night's gloom,
Unseen, perhaps, by mortal eye, the way
Thro' million leagues of space thy sparks illume,
Thy fiery banners their great folds display.

The moon shines out when twilight hues grow dim.
She fills her golden horn with light, and then
Fadeth away, and is obscured again,
Thro' all her curved rim.

But thou dost never pale thy flame,
But steadily throughout the lapse of time
Dost keep unswerving thy grand march sublime.
Forever still the same.

The planets in their orbits disappear,
The twinkling stars haste on their cloudy path,
The round red sun an endless journey hath,
But mid them all thou travellest, year by year.

But soon will telescopic science fail
Thy fleeting, fading presence to discern;
To catch in midnight glooms, or daybreak pale,
The place where all thy glimmering vapors burn.

Yet ages hence, when all these living men
Have pass'd from memory in oblivion's dust,
Thy flaming torch will reappear again,
Thy bright effulgence on the world will burst.