The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.

O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?

Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of the day, spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay.

Men of England! who inheritRights that cost your sires their blood.

Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name.

Love! the surviving gift of Heaven, The choicest sweet of Paradise, In life's else bitter cup distilled.

Your belief systems limit your reality to a sub-set of the solution space that does not contain the answer.