Poems of Freneau | ||
Picture I.
Columbus making Maps.
AS o'er his charts Columbus ran,
Such disproportion he survey'd,
He thought he saw in art's mean plan
Blunders that Nature never made;
The land in one poor corner placed,
And all beside, a swelling waste!—
“It can't be so,” Columbus said;
Such disproportion he survey'd,
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Blunders that Nature never made;
The land in one poor corner placed,
And all beside, a swelling waste!—
“It can't be so,” Columbus said;
“This world on paper idly drawn,
“O'er one small tract so often gone
“The pencil tires; in this void space
“Allow'd to find no resting place.
“O'er one small tract so often gone
“The pencil tires; in this void space
“Allow'd to find no resting place.
“But copying Nature's bold design,
“If true to her, no fault is mine:
“Perhaps in these moist regions dwell
“Forms wrought like man, and lov'd as well.
“If true to her, no fault is mine:
“Perhaps in these moist regions dwell
“Forms wrought like man, and lov'd as well.
“Yet to the west what lengthen'd seas!
“Are no gay islands found in these,
“No sylvan worlds that Nature meant
“To balance Asia's vast extent?
“Are no gay islands found in these,
“No sylvan worlds that Nature meant
“To balance Asia's vast extent?
“As late a mimic globe I made
“(Imploring Fancy to my aid)
“O'er these wild seas a shade I threw,
“And a new world my pencil drew.
“(Imploring Fancy to my aid)
“O'er these wild seas a shade I threw,
“And a new world my pencil drew.
“But westward plac'd, and far away
“In the deep seas this country lay
“Beyond all climes already known,
“In Neptune's bosom plac'd alone.
“In the deep seas this country lay
“Beyond all climes already known,
“In Neptune's bosom plac'd alone.
“Who knows but he that hung this ball
“In the clear void, and governs all,
“On those dread scenes, remote from view,
“Has trac'd his great idea too.
“In the clear void, and governs all,
“On those dread scenes, remote from view,
“Has trac'd his great idea too.
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“What can these idle charts avail—
“O'er real seas I mean to sail;
“If fortune aids the grand design,
“Worlds yet unthought of shall be mine.
“O'er real seas I mean to sail;
“If fortune aids the grand design,
“Worlds yet unthought of shall be mine.
“But how shall I this country find!
“Gay, painted picture of the mind!
“Religion holds my project vain,
“And owns no worlds beyond the main.
“Gay, painted picture of the mind!
“Religion holds my project vain,
“And owns no worlds beyond the main.
“'Midst yonder hills long time has stay'd
“In sylvan cells a wondrous maid,
“Who things to come can truly tell,
“Dread mistress of the magic spell.
“In sylvan cells a wondrous maid,
“Who things to come can truly tell,
“Dread mistress of the magic spell.
“Whate'er the depths of time can shew
“All pass before her in review,
“And all events her eyes survey,
“'Till time and nature both decay.
“All pass before her in review,
“And all events her eyes survey,
“'Till time and nature both decay.
“I'll to her cave, enquiring there
“What mighty things the fates prepare;
“Whether my hopes and plans are vain,
“Or I must give new worlds to Spain.”
“What mighty things the fates prepare;
“Whether my hopes and plans are vain,
“Or I must give new worlds to Spain.”
Poems of Freneau | ||