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| VERRAZANO, Verrazano, child of Arno’s golden vale, | |
| Wooer of life’s great adventure, master of the streaming sail, | |
| O’er the chartless seas of silence from a fellow voyager, hail! | |
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| I can view you as the morning lit your peak with windy flame, | |
| On the day the West beguiled you with the glamour of its name, | 5 |
| When the dauntless Dolphin ventured on the peril-path of Fame! | |
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| Osprey-like above the spindrift, through your brain fair dreams had play, | |
| Flushed with all the hues of sunset, iridescent as the spray, | |
| Visions of the wonder-islands and the treasures of Cathay. | |
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| Verrazano, Verrazano, I can mark the heavy hours,— | 10 |
| Striding winds upon the waters, and tumultuous tropic showers, | |
| And the strange bright stars at midnight, ere you neared the Land of Flowers. | |
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| I can picture its allurement,—bloom as of eternal spring, | |
| Attar from the jasmine blossoms in the palms and pines a-swing, | |
| What it meant to worn sea-rovers spent with weary wandering! | 15 |
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| But now oped no halcyon haven, this was not the far-sought goal. | |
| Though it might be hung with garlands like a radiant aureole; | |
| Here was not the crown’s attainment for a virile seaman soul! | |
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| Verrazano, Verrazano, then it was the North beguiled | |
| With the magic of its trumpets blowing loud and blowing wild; | 20 |
| And you listed to its summons like an outcast long exiled. | |
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| In the purple drift of twilight dappled dune and wood slipped by; | |
| Reedy cove and barren headland rocked beneath a cloud-tossed sky; | |
| While the taut breeze through the cordage chanted sagas clear and high. | |
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| Cliffs that bore no blazing beacon save the flare of savage flames, | 25 |
| Capes that ne’er had heard a greeting save the sea-mew’s shrill acclaims. | |
| How you cried them salutation with your sweet Italian names! | |
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| Verrazano, Verrazano,—Chesapeake and Delaware, | |
| They to you were soft Santanna linked with Palamsina fair, | |
| Then you sighted San Germano in the crimson evening air. | 30 |
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| San Germano!—our Manhattan, virginal with vernal shores, | |
| Its incomparable harbour opening as do silvern doors | |
| Swinging to the sound of music that from blended viols pours. | |
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| While in liquid under-ether at repose your anchor hung, | |
| And the thrush’s vesper anthem from the slopes about you rung, | 35 |
| Did you breast the tides of slumber amid dreams that closed and clung? | |
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| Verrazano, Verrazano, in the mazes of that night | |
| Did some prophecy enfold you, did some prescience clothe your sight | |
| With today’s still-growing marvels, height upon triumphant height? | |
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| Pendant Babylonian gardens, Ninevean temples tall, | 40 |
| Climbing Carthaginian ramparts, Susan dome and Tyrian wall, | |
| All that Rome revealed of splendour—had not this majestic thrall!— | |
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| Had not this imperious import;—Commerce in exultant sway; | |
| Affluence of every nation moored within one matchless bay; | |
| From the calyx of the ages a miraculous Cathay! | 45 |
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| Yours by virtue of brave questing, yours, by right of primal law, | |
| The discoverer’s chrism of glory, that omnipotence of awe | |
| Such as Moses knew on Pisgah when he raised his eyes—and saw! | |
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| Verrazano, Verrazano, howso’er you trim your sail, | |
| Seeking still the great adventure far beyond our mortal pale, | 50 |
| O’er the chartless seas of silence from a fellow voyager, hail! | |
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