On with the aid of a womanly wit,
Which served the high-set purpose well; For the squadron's glittering sails were lit
Through fair Hispania's Isabel. Who had stooped her head, with its regal crown,
And soothed with pity's shapely hand, As to grim Suspicion's withering frown
She raised the sceptre of the land.
Onward, aye on, though the night shadows lower,
Though star lamps burn low in the sky, Onward through hurricane, cloud-rift and shower;
Still onward, whate'er may defy. Calming, controlling a mutinous crew,
The victims of loneness and fear; Deftly explaining phenomena new
With voicings of courage and cheer.
Shifting of compass, strange lights in the sky,
Strange birds on a wandering wing; "On, Oh my comrades! the guerdon is nigh;
Fresh life to my pulses doth spring. Trust me, my comrades! nor wild water-wraith,
Nor phantom his passage e'er bars Whose rudder is set with a firm-bound faith
In that Power who created the stars."
On through the drift-weed; Lo! tranquil blue seas;
With breath of a balmier air; On, hoisting their sails to the landward breeze,
On, ridding their spirits of care. Light through the darkness! bright beacons ahead!
And the mariner's sails are furled, For the errand of genius hath aptly sped,
On the rim of a great New World.
In raiment of splendor the ground he hath trod;
He looks from the sky to the main; He planteth the Cross in the name of his God,
His standard in token of Spain. And on through the cycles, in Temple of Fame,
Though nations and systems decay, The laurels which lustre Columbus' proud name
In freshness shall blossom for aye.
TIME AND ETERNITY.
Time! Ocean of boundless unrest!
Upheaving with tumult of life; While, as foam on the billowy crest,
Floats he who is first in the strife. First in the van of courage and right,
Or foremost in daring to wrong; Time bendeth low to the monarch of might,
Embalms him in story and song.
Yet lives there be which the giddy hours
Tinge lightly, as onward they wing; Rough winds may scatter Hope's fairest flowers,
The dreamer awaketh to sing. And sweet seraph tones, borne from on high,
Enliven the faltering strain; Till a golden rift streaks the dark sky,
And sunlight illumines again.
Eternity! prospect sublime!
Blessed Faith holdeth forth unto view, Where the fleeting illusions of time
Yield place to the lasting and true, Where the song never dies in a wail,
Nor sun ever sinks into gloom; Nor bright life in its splendor doth fail
'Fore darkness of death and the tomb.