THE FLEET OF COLUMBUS.
Six sail were in the squadron he possessed,
And these he felt the Lord of Hosts had blessed,
For he was ever faithful to the cross,
With which compared, all else was earthly dross.
Southwestward toward the equinoctial line
He steered his barks, for vast was his design.
There, like a mirror, the Atlantic lay,
White dolphins on its breast were seen to play,
And lazily the vessels rose and fell,
With flapping sails, upon the gentle swell;
While panting crews beneath the torrid sun
Lost strength and spirits—felt themselves undone.
Day after day the air a furnace seemed,
And fervid rays upon them brightly beamed,
The burning decks displayed their yawning seams,
And from the rigging tar ran down in streams.—Ibid.