Should the vast circuit of the world contain
Such wastes of ocean, and such scanty land?—
'Tis reason's voice that bids me think not so,
I think more nobly of the Almighty hand.
Does yon' fair lamp trace half the circle round
To light the waves and monsters of the seas?—
No—be there must beyond the billowy waste
Islands, and men, and animals, and trees.
An unremitting flame my breast inspires
To seek new lands amidst the barren waves,
Where falling low, the source of day descends,
And the blue sea his evening visage laves.
Hear, in his tragic lay, Cordova's sage:[A]
"The time shall come, when numerous years are past,
"The ocean shall dissolve the bands of things,
"And an extended region rise at last;
[A] Seneca the poet, native of Cordova in Spain.—Freneau's note (1786). Venient annis secula seris, quibus oceanus vincula rerum laxet, et ingens pateat tellus, Typhisque novos detegat orbes; nec sit terris Ultima Thule.—Seneca, Med., Act. III, V. 375. (Ibid. Ed. 1795 et seq.)
"And Typhis shall disclose the mighty land
"Far, far away, where none have rov'd before;
"Nor shall the world's remotest region be
"Gibraltar's rock, or Thule's[B] savage shore."[44]
[B] Supposed by many to be the Orkney or Shetland Isles.—Freneau's note.
Fir'd at the theme, I languish to depart,
Supply the barque, and bid Columbus sail,
He fears no storms upon the untravell'd deep;
Reason shall steer, and skill disarm the gale.
Nor does he dread to lose the intended course,
Though far from land the reeling galley stray,
And skies above, and gulphy seas below
Be the sole objects seen for many a day.
Think not that Nature has unveil'd in vain
The mystic magnet to the mortal eye:
So late have we the guiding needle plann'd
Only to sail beneath our native sky?