Unyielding in the pride of his defiance,
       &nbsp Afloat with none to serve or to command,
Lord of himself at last, and all by Science,
       &nbsp He seeks the Vanished Land.

Alone, by the one light of his one thought,
       &nbsp He steers to find the shore from which we came, —
Fearless of in what coil he may be caught
       &nbsp On seas that have no name.

Into the night he sails; and after night
       &nbsp There is a dawning, though there be no sun;
Wherefore, with nothing but himself in sight,
       &nbsp Unsighted, he sails on.

At last there is a lifting of the cloud
       &nbsp Between the flood before him and the sky;
And then — though he may curse the Power aloud
       &nbsp That has no power to die —

He steers himself away from what is haunted
       &nbsp By the old ghost of what has been before, —
Abandoning, as always, and undaunted,
       &nbsp One fog-walled island more.