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| TRAVERSE the oceans, seek for unknown strands; | |
| With great explorers ride through marvellous lands; | |
| Walk with the poet where his kingdom lies,— | |
| A realm of light beneath enchanted skies; | |
| Between bright islands sail the spicy seas, | 5 |
| Beside the mighty-hearted Genoese; | |
| Conquer with Cortes the barbaric states, | |
| And pass through El Dorado’s golden gates; | |
| Shout with the great Balboa and his crew, | |
| What time a new sea sparkles into view; | 10 |
| With Ponce de Leon seek the fabled stream | |
| Through flowery valleys brighter than his dream; | |
| But never any sight of new-found land | |
| Shall equal this, where we entrancèd stand, | |
| With dewy eyes and overflowing heart, | 15 |
| Gazing from the exalted hill of Art! | |
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| This is not sorrowing Italy, nor these | |
| The storied windings of the Pyrenees, | |
| Nor are yon high and trackless realms of snow | |
| The over-travelled Alps, the guide-man’s show! | 20 |
| But these, in depth of equatorial green, | |
| Are the fresh Cordilleras, where between | |
| Wander bewildering rivers, dancing down | |
| Their rocky terraces of golden brown, | |
| Clapping their watery hands. About the falls | 25 |
| The trees are wreathed like happy bacchanals. | |
| Here blooms a world that fears nor cold nor drouth, | |
| The lavish luxury of the teeming South, | |
| The carnival of summer, far and near, | |
| In lands where summer lords it all the year; | 30 |
| And over all, his Andean front aglow, | |
| Great Chimborazo sits, his throne of snow! | |
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