65. CHAPTER LXV.
Morning dawned upon the same mild, blue Lagoon as
erst; and all the lands that we had passed, since leaving
Piko's shore of spears, were faded from the sight.
Part and parcel of the Mardian isles, they formed a
cluster by themselves; like the Pleiades, that shine in
Taurus, and are eclipsed by the red splendor of his fiery eye,
and the thick clusterings of the constellations round.
And as in Orion, to some old king-astronomer,—say,
King of Rigel, or Betelguese,—this Earth's four quarters
show but four points afar; so, seem they to terrestrial eyes,
that broadly sweep the spheres.
And, as the sun, by influence divine, wheels through the
Ecliptic; threading Cancer, Leo, Pisces, and Aquarius; so,
by some mystic impulse am I moved, to this fleet progress,
through the groups in white-reefed Mardi's zone.
Oh, reader, list! I've chartless voyaged. With compass
and the lead, we had not found these Mardian Isles.
Those who boldly launch, cast off all cables; and turning
from the common breeze, that's fair for all, with their own
breath, fill their own sails. Hug the shore, naught new is
seen; and “Land ho!” at last was sung, when a new
world was sought.
That voyager steered his bark through seas, untracked
before; ploughed his own path mid jeers; though with a
heart that oft was heavy with the thought, that he might
only be too bold, and grope where land was none.
So I.
And though essaying but a sportive sail, I was driven
from my course, by a blast resistless; and ill-provided,
young, and bowed to the brunt of things before my prime,
still fly before the gale;—hard have I striven to keep stout
heart.
And if it harder be, than e'er before, to find new climes,
when now our seas have oft been circled by ten thousand
prows,—much more the glory!
But this new world here sought, is stranger far than his,
who stretched his vans from Palos. It is the world of
mind; wherein the wanderer may gaze round, with more
of wonder than Balboa's band roving through the golden
Aztec glades.
But fiery yearnings their own phantom-future make, and
deem it present. So, if after all these fearful, fainting
trances, the verdict be, the golden haven was not gained;—
yet, in bold quest thereof, better to sink in boundless deeps,
that float on vulgar shoals; and give me, ye gods, an utter
wreck, if wreck I do.
