John Brown

The sea-bound landsman, looking back to shore, Now learns what land is highest:—not the ring Of hills that erewhile shut out everything Beyond them from him: these are seen no more; Nor yet the loftier heights that, from the lower, He saw far inland, blue, and, worship ping, Believed they touched the sky; the gull’s white wing Long since flashed o’er them sunk in the sea-floor. These were but uplands hiding the true height, Which looms above them as they sink, and rears Its greatness ever greater on the sight. So thou, across the widening sea of years, Aye risest great, as on through gloom and bright Our tossing bark of Progress sunward steers.