In fancy sees the prophet’s page unroll,
And reads therein the presage of his birth,
The mighty mission of his single soul!
Life’s pathway bears for him a healing balm,
Which cheers his heart and nerves his fainting arm.
XII.—The Death of Columbus.
He cometh to the shore of that vast sea,[[5]]
Whereon he never yet hath spread his sail;
His last, last voyage. Now every chart must fail,
Save that, our Father! he received of Thee!