A noiseless patient spider,
I markтАЩd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
MarkтАЩd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launchтАЩd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be formтАЩd, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.