Now take Joaquin Miller’s magnificent and stirring poem “Columbus” and analyze it in the same fashion. Here is the analysis made of it by an intelligent reader on his own initiative, without any knowledge of the method we would have each student master and follow:

A Student’s Analysis of “Columbus”

First dwell upon the outlines of the history of Columbus, his early struggles and mastery of hardships. Recall that it was in his day that the new idea of the rotundity of the earth was being largely discussed. Watch the growth of this idea in his thought, until there springs up the confident assurance that if this idea be true it must be possible to reach India—or any other land—by sailing around the earth in either direction. Confident of his idea, his scientific mind demands knowledge, demonstration. He seeks help to find out. Is rebuffed on every hand. Called crazy, insane, a fool, a lunatic. The idea persists. It grows into an obsession. He knows, and now his soul demands that he compel other people to know. The more rebuffs the greater his determination. Get hold here of the great fundamental thought that moves the universe, that works all the marvels that man has accomplished, viz., that when you link up with Truth, you are linked up with God—the Supreme Power of the Universe—and there cannot be any failure to a man so connected. All Columbus had to do was to persist. He did so, and finally Isabella and Ferdinand were convinced, the money needed was raised, the ship provided, and the happy, joyous Columbus sets sail to demonstrate to the world that which his soul had already convinced him was true.

Now remember the ignorance of the world at large on the subject. Recall that his sailors were densely ignorant and fearfully superstitious, but Columbus had never given that a thought.

He sets sail, full of delight, happiness, confidence. Now refer to the poem. 1. He and his sailors alike knew that the islands of the Azores and the Gates of Hercules were behind them. 2. Here, however, is a difference in the knowledge of Columbus and his sailors. He, with the eye of scientific confidence, could see ahead, though there was nothing in sight but shoreless seas, not even the ghost of shores. The sailors saw nothing but the uncharted and unknown seas. Do you not feel their awe and superstitious fears? Can you not picture their fearful whisperings together as they sail further and further into the unknown? The mate is the means of communication between them and the admiral. 3. Observe the dread of sailors and mate. The stars with which they are familiar disappear and new and strange ones appear, adding new fuel to their superstitious fears. 4. The mate asks Columbus how he shall reply to these fears. His mood is one of fear and growing alarm excited into the action of questioning. 5. Now ask yourself: What would be Columbus’s natural reply? Remember he has given years of thought to this subject. He has no question as to the success of the voyage. Expecting to sail on uncharted seas, they have no fears for him. He knows what he will find when he has gone far enough around. The fears and questions of the mate are absurd, preposterous. There is but one answer: Calmly and confidently he gives it, “Why, say, Sail on! and on!” Matter of fact, almost indifferent, totally unconscious of the seething fears bubbling up every moment afresh in the hearts of his sailors. What kind of intonation in his voice would such a question call forth?

6. For the time being the questionings of the men are satisfied, and they sail and sail (don’t hurry in giving this repetition) as winds might blow. The fears and questionings now begin afresh. 7. The fear is indicated in the word blanched, and in the mate’s words. 8. Being away from familiar scenes, and all other men, his and his sailors’ small minds fear that even God has lost sight of them. The winds are lost, God is not here. 9. Hence there is increasing urgency in his second appeal to the admiral. But Columbus (10), seeing the vision that has been familiar to him for many years, and preoccupied by his dream, neither sees any reason for fears, nor does he yet become aware of the fear expressed in the mate’s voice. His reply, therefore, is the quiet, scarcely heard voice of the dreamer, given much lower and quieter than his ordinary talking voice, but with the deep intensity of a man who has but one purpose.

Pause now for a few moments to allow this quiet urge of the admiral to sink in. Don’t hurry. Then let the next stanza open with some degree of haste and excitement. 11. The mate’s tone now is one of definite, open remonstrance. It is all very well for his admiral to say “Sail on!” He—the mate—has to come in direct conflict with the men. They are growing mutinous. They are growing ghastly wan and weak. Even he, 12, had begun to think of home and, in spite of himself, tears, 13 (for is not this suggested in “a spray of salt wave”?) washed his swarthy cheek. Hence now, his question is more definite. He seeks to “pin” the admiral down to a fixed time, 14. He gives him until dawn to see land. But the admiral, feeling that each dawn sees him nearer to the goal of his heart’s desire, and impatient that the foolish fears and unreasoning terrors of his men should even threaten the possible thwarting of this desire, replies sternly, impatiently and somewhat fiercely, 15. He shall say at break of day, land or no land, fears or no fears, but one thing, and he puts such emphasis upon it that no one can misunderstand.

Here, again, pause. Let this firm determination “seep” into the minds of the hearers. A few moments is long enough, but to speed on immediately to the fourth stanza is to lose a striking effect. Then, in perfectly natural, quiet voice, continue the story: They sailed. 16. Observe the repetition of this statement. Why is it repeated? A thoughtful author doesn’t repeat for nothing. Here, by the repetition, 17, Joaquin Miller seeks powerfully to impress upon his reader that after they had sailed a long, long way further, they still sailed on. Hence, is it not apparent there must be quite a little pause between the first “they sailed” and the second? Try the effect of this and see the result.

Now, 18, the mate, forced by his own and his sailors’ fears, though assured of the displeasure of the admiral at his voicing of these fears, braves his anger by calling his attention to the coming storm on the sea, 19, and he becomes more agitated as he expresses his own fears, 20. Yet he knows the courage of the admiral, and consciously or unconsciously pays him the tribute of bravery. At the same time, as hope has almost fled from the bosoms of himself and his shipmates he asks the question, pleadingly, agonizingly: “What shall we, 22, do when hope is gone?” In the answer all of Columbus’s exasperation, despair, determination, are compressed. Has he studied, prayed, pleaded, striven for years, and come thus far to be balked by the fears of a few craven cowards? Is he now, just now, when success must be close within his reach, to fail? No! by the Eternal, he shall not fail! The childish cries of his men shall not avail. He will compel them to go on, and, as though he were maddened beyond control his words “leap like a leaping sword,” 23, and cleave the air with ringing sound that strikes down all opposition, Sail on! Sail on! sail on! AND ON!

Let the crescendo come with all the power, force, voice, of which you are capable. Prepare for it. Get the lungs full of air. Put all the intensity and passion of a lifetime’s hopes, desires, ambitions, into it, and feel as though you had these cowardly sailors by the throat and were determined upon pouring your will into their craven souls.