The sands flash'd back like fields of snow, Like far blown seas that flood and flow. The while the rounded sky rose higher, And cleaving through the upper space, The flush'd sun settled to his place, Like some far hemisphere of fire. And yet again he gazed. And now, Far off and faint, he saw or guess'd He saw, beyond the sands a-west, A dim and distant lifting beach That daring men might dare and reach: Dim shapes of toppled peaks with pine, And water'd foot-hills dark like wine, And fruits on many a bended bough. The leader turn'd and shook his head. "And shall we turn aside," he said, "Or dare this hell?" The men stood still As leaning on his sterner will. And then he stopp'd and turn'd again, And held his broad hand to his brow, And looked intent and eagerly. The far white levels of the plain Flash'd back like billows. Even now He saw rise up remote, 'mid sea, 'Mid space, 'mid wastes, 'mid nothingness, A ship becalm'd as in distress. The dim sign pass'd as suddenly, A gossamer of golden tress, Thrown over some still middle sea, And then his eager eyes grew dazed,-- He brought his two hands to his face. Again he raised his head, and gazed With flashing eyes and visage fierce Far out, and resolute to pierce The far, far, faint receding reach Of space and touch its farther beach. He saw but space, unbounded space; Eternal space and nothingness. Then all wax'd anger'd as they gazed Far out upon the shoreless land, And clench'd their doubled hands and raised Their long bare arms, but utter'd not. At last one started from the band, His bosom heaved as billows heave, Great heaving bosom, broad and brown: He raised his arm, push'd up his sleeve, Push'd bare his arm, strode up and down, With hat pushed back, and flushed and hot, And shot sharp oaths like cannon shot. Again the man stood still, again He strode the height like hoary storm, Then shook his fists, and then his form Did writhe as if it writhed with pain. And yet again his face was raised, And yet again he gazed and gazed, Above his fading, failing foe, With gather'd brow and visage fierce, As if his soul would part or pierce The awful depths that lay below. He had as well look'd on that sea That keeps Samoa's coral isles Amid ten thousand watery miles, Bound round by one eternity; Bound round by realms of nothingness, In love with their own loneliness. He saw but space, unbounded space, And brought his brown hands to his face. There roll'd away to left, to right, Unbroken walls as black as night, And back of these there distant rose Steep cones of everlasting snows.