As a parroquet, brilliant with spangles, chatters and clatters alarm.
For a man stands gazing seaward, a man who is pale and worn,
With a lean hand shading his forehead, a doublet faded and torn.
“I take you, O brilliant waters, for the King and Queen of Castile
And I name you the Southern Ocean, Ye must know how joyous I feel.
For, from lands that are distant and foreign, I sailed to view and explore,
And what I have seen is o’erpowering; what I behold, I adore.”
And the parroquet chattered and scolded, and the waters lay calm and gray,
As Balboa, who found the Pacific, gazed and dreamed through the day.