 | Imaginary Sonnets |  |
37
VASCO DE GAMA TO THE SPIRIT OF TEMPESTS.
(1504.)
All round about us was a liquid hell;
In monstrous chains the livid summits ran
Beneath thy breath to crush us; and where man
Had never sailed, roared round our tortured shell.
In monstrous chains the livid summits ran
Beneath thy breath to crush us; and where man
Had never sailed, roared round our tortured shell.
Then on the lurid sky, where rose and fell
The black horizon wave, as night began,
I saw thee loom, immense and vague and wan,
And heard thy voice, that seemed a booming bell:
The black horizon wave, as night began,
I saw thee loom, immense and vague and wan,
And heard thy voice, that seemed a booming bell:
‘Back—back!’ thou howl'dst; ‘these boundless seas are mine.
Here is no place for man. Here I alone
Have right to reign. Back, back, while life is thine!’
Here is no place for man. Here I alone
Have right to reign. Back, back, while life is thine!’
But I pushed on, and made thy seas my own;
And by-and-by I saw the tossing link
Of waves subside, to show me India's throne.
And by-and-by I saw the tossing link
Of waves subside, to show me India's throne.
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