I think

like Cabot, when having voyaged all the way from Nova Scotia to Chesapeake Bay, he told the King he had explored a barren stretch of China shore -

like Kepler, after many errors, (admitting in his book - with cause - ''Woe to me. Here I blundered - '') stumbling on universal laws,

I bumble on my way, immersed in many a fruitless, thankless task and then, it may be, I am shown whatever tripped me, rock or stone, is veined with a glittering strip of truth -

as though to prove I should have known that error is not the final word, but only, oftentimes, the first.