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Picture VIII. Columbus at the Harbour of Palos, in Andalusia.
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Picture VIII.
Columbus at the Harbour of Palos, in Andalusia.

Columbus.
In three small barques to cross so vast a sea,
Held to be boundless, even in learning's eye,
And trusting only to a magic glass,
Which may have represented things untrue,
Shadows and visions for realities!—
It is a bold attempt!—Yet I must go,

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Travelling the surge to its great boundary;
Far, far away beyond the reach of men,
Where never galley spread her milk-white sail
Or weary pilgrim bore the Christian name!
But though I were confirm'd in my design
And saw the whole event with certainty,
How shall I so exert my eloquence,
And hold such arguments with vulgar minds
As to convince them I am not an idiot
Chasing the visions of a shatter'd brain,
Ending in their perdition and my own?
The world, and all its wisdom is against me;
The dreams of priests; philosophy in chains;
False learning swoln with self-sufficiency;
Men seated at the helm of royalty
Reasoning like school-boys;—what discouragements!
Experience holds herself mine enemy,
And one weak woman only hears my story!—
I'll make a speech—“Here jovial sailors, here!
“Ye that would rise beyond the rags of fortune,
“Struggling too long with hopeless poverty,
“Coasting your native shores on shallow seas,
“Vex'd by the gallies of the Ottoman;
“Now meditate with me a bolder plan,
“Catching at fortune in her plentitude!
“He that shall undertake this voyage with me
“Shall be no longer held a vulgar man:
“Princes shall wish they had been our companions,
“And Science blush she did not go along
“To learn a lesson that might humble pride
“Now grinning idly from a pedant's cap,
“Lurking behind the veil of cowardice.
“FAR in the west a golden region lies
“Unknown, unvisited for many an age,
“Teeming with treasures to enrich the brave.
“Embark, embark—Columbus leads the way—
“Why, friends, existence is alike to me

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“Dear and desireable with other men;
“What good could I devise in seeking ruin?
“Embark, I say; and he that sails with me
“Shall reap a harvest of immortal honour:
“Wealthier he shall return than they that now
“Lounge in the lap of principalities,
“Hoarding the gorgeous treasures of the east.”—
Alas, alas! they turn their backs upon me,
And rather choose to wallow in the mire
Of want, and torpid inactivity,
Than by one bold and masterly exertion
Themselves ennoble, and enrich their country!