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* * * * * ON Palos’ shore, whose crowded strand | |
| Bore priests and nobles of the land, | |
| And rustic hinds and townsmen trim, | |
| And harnessed soldiers stern and grim, | |
| And lowly maids and dames of pride, | 5 |
| And infants by their mother’s side,— | |
| The boldest seaman stood that e’er | |
| Did bark or ship through tempest steer; | |
| And wise as bold, and good as wise; | |
| The magnet of a thousand eyes, | 10 |
| That on his form and features cast; | |
| His noble mien and simple guise, | |
| In wonder seemed to look their last. | |
| A form which conscious worth is gracing, | |
| A face where hope, the lines effacing | 15 |
| Of thought and care, bestowed, in truth, | |
| To the quick eyes’ imperfect tracing | |
| The look and air of youth. * * * * * | |
| The signal given, with hasty strides | |
| The sailors climbed their ships’ dark sides; | 20 |
| Their anchors weighed; and from the shore | |
| Each stately vessel slowly bore. | |
| High o’er the deeply shadowed flood, | |
| Upon his deck their leader stood, | |
| And turned him to the parted land, | 25 |
| And bowed his head and waved his hand. | |
| And then, along the crowded strand, | |
| A sound of many sounds combined, | |
| That waxed and waned upon the wind, | |
| Burst like heaven’s thunder, deep and grand; | 30 |
| A lengthened peal, which paused, and then | |
| Renewed, like that which loathly parts, | |
| Oft on the ear returned again, | |
| The impulse of a thousand hearts. | |
| But as the lengthened shouts subside, | 35 |
| Distincter accents strike the ear, | |
| Wafting across the current wide, | |
| Heart-uttered words of parting cheer: | |
| “O, shall we ever see again | |
| Those gallant souls recross the main? | 40 |
| God keep the brave! God be their guide! | |
| God bear them safe through storm and tide! | |
| Their sails with favoring breezes swell! | |
| O brave Columbus! fare thee well!” * * * * * | |
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