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(From The Legend of Christopher Columbus)
WHAT did the ocean’s waste supply | |
| To soothe the mind or please the eye? | |
| The rising morn through dim mist breaking, | |
| The flickered east with purple streaking; | |
| The midday cloud through thin air flying, | 5 |
| With deeper blue the blue sea dyeing; | |
| Long ridgy waves their white manes rearing, | |
| And in the broad gleam disappearing; | |
| The broadened, blazing sun declining, | |
| And western waves like fire-floods shining; | 10 |
| The sky’s vast dome to darkness given, | |
| And all the glorious host of heaven! | |
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| Full oft upon the deck, while others slept, | |
| To mark the bearing of each well-known star | |
| That shone aloft or on the horizon far, | 15 |
| The anxious chief his lonely vigil kept. | |
| The mournful wind, the hoarse wave breaking near, | |
| The breathing groans of sleep, the plunging lead, | |
| The steersman’s call, and his own stilly tread, | |
| Are all the sounds of night that reach his ear. | 20 |
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| But soon his dauntless soul, which naught could bend,— | |
| Nor hope delayed nor adverse fate subdue,— | |
| With a more threatening danger must contend | |
| Than storm or wave,—a fierce and angry crew! | |
| “Dearly,” say they, “may we those visions rue | 25 |
| Which lured us from our native land, | |
| A wretched, lost, devoted band, | |
| Led on by hope’s delusive gleam, | |
| The victim of a madman’s dream! | |
| Nor gold shall e’er be ours, nor fame; | 30 |
| Not even the remnant of a name | |
| On some rude lettered stone to tell | |
| On what strange coast our week befell. | |
| For us no requiem shall be sung, | |
| Nor prayer be said, nor passing knell | 35 |
| In holy church be rung.” | |
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| To thoughts like these all forms give way | |
| Of duty to a leader’s sway; | |
| And, as he moves,—ah! wretched cheer!— | |
| Their muttered curses reach his ear. | 40 |
| But all undaunted, firm, and sage, | |
| He scorns their threats, yet thus he soothes their rage: | |
| “That to some nearing coast we bear, | |
| How many cheering signs declare! | |
| Wayfaring birds the blue air ranging, | 45 |
| Their shadowy line to blue air changing, | |
| Pass o’er our heads in frequent flocks; | |
| While seaweed from the parent rocks, | |
| With fibry roots, but newly torn, | |
| In wreaths are on the clear wave borne. | 50 |
| Nay, has not e’en the drifting current brought | |
| Things of rude art, by human cunning wrought? | |
| Be yet two days your patience tried, | |
| And if no shore is then descried, | |
| E’en turn your dastard prows again, | 55 |
| And cast your leader to the main.” | |
| And thus awhile, with steady hand, | |
| He kept in check a wayward band, | |
| Who but with half-expressed disdain | |
| Their rebel spirit could restrain. | 60 |
| So passed the day, the night, the second day, | |
| With its red setting sun’s extinguished ray. | |
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| Dark, solemn midnight coped the ocean wide, | |
| When from his watchful stand Columbus cried, | |
| “A light, a light!”—blest sounds that rang | 65 |
| In every ear. At once they sprang | |
| With haste aloft, and, peering bright, | |
| Descried afar the blesséd sight. | |
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| “It moves! it slowly moves like ray | |
| Of torch that guides some wanderer’s way! | 70 |
| Lo! other lights, more distant, seeming | |
| As if from town or hamlet streaming! | |
| ’T is land, ’t is peopled land! man dwelleth there, | |
| And thou, O God of heaven, hast heard thy servant’s prayer!” | |
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| Returning day gave to their view | 75 |
| The distant shore and headlands blue | |
| Of long-sought land. Then rose on air | |
| Loud shouts of joy, mixed wildly strange | |
| With voice of weeping and of prayer, | |
| Expressive of their blessed change | 80 |
| From death to life, from fierce to kind, | |
| From all that sinks to all that elevates the mind. | |
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| Those who, by faithless fear ensnared, | |
| Had their brave chief so rudely dared, | |
| Now, with keen self-upbraiding stung, | 85 |
| With every manly feeling wrung, | |
| Repentant tears, looks that entreat, | |
| Are kneeling humbly at his feet: | |
| “Pardon our blinded, stubborn guilt! | |
| O, henceforth make us what thou wilt! | 90 |
| Our hands, our hearts, our lives, are thine, | |
| Thou wondrous man, led on by power divine!” | |
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| Columbus led them to the shore | |
| Which ship had never touched before; | |
| And there he knelt upon the strand | 95 |
| To thank the God of sea and land; | |
| And there, with mien and look elate, | |
| Gave welcome to each toil-worn mate. | |
| And lured with courteous signs of cheer | |
| The dusky natives gathering near, | 100 |
| Who on them gazed with wondering eyes, | |
| As missioned spirits from the skies. | |
| And there did he possession claim | |
| In royal Isabella’s name. | |
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