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“We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further; it may be
Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow 
Across that angry or that glimmering sea, 

White on a throne or guarded in a cave 
There lies a prophet who can understand
Why men were born: but surely we are brave,
Who take the Golden Road to Samarkand.”
― James Elroy Flecker

“O friend unseen, unborn, unknown,
Student of our sweet English tongue,
Read out my words at night, alone:
I was a poet, I was young.

Since I can never see your face,
And never shake you by the hand,
I send my soul through time and space
To greet you. You will understand.”
― James Elroy Flecker