Travelers

Travelers

'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Reflecting light's last rays, they're golden swirled
Which, full of wet kelp dot the sheer black cliffs.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
We'll trade for steady breezes with our crowns
Minerva-blessed, we'll whisk across the miles.

Though much is taken, much abides; and though
Another generation burns and builds,
The world holds many haunts and fields— we'll go
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

And so I'll be content—when I can cry
Of all the western stars, until I die.

 Based on "Ulysses" by Alfred Lord Tennyson