What land, we hold. Sduisdi sgidisi. What land, we breathe. Vertical gain, falling through a just-before-sunrise so deep each headlamp a city, a dream. Run with me. Hadanawisda. . . .
Dwellers at home, in indolence and ease, How deep their debt, to those that roam the seas, Or cross the lands, in quest of every art That science, knowledge, pity can impart To help mankind, or guild the lettered page The bold discoverers of every age.