Who’s here ? a strange, old-fangled German Herr,1
With hat three-cornered and bag-wig behind ;2
Who peers with curious gaze, as if he were3
New wafted from the moon by some stray wind4
On the strange earth !  Ah ! now I know the man,5
The sage who from this outmost Teuton station,6
Marked their just bounds to all the thinking clan,7
And pruned their wings to sober speculation,8
Happy who, humanly, with human kind,9
Works human work, well pleased from day to day,10
Nor dares with high-plumed venture unconfined11
Through trackless voids to push his plunging way !12
God laughs at lofty thoughts ; but whoso proves13
His ponder’d path, and walks by faith, He loves.14