| |
| “LAND, ho!” how welcome was the voice, | |
| Which bade, as forth its tidings went, | |
| The deeps of sea and air rejoice | |
| For a new element! | |
| |
| And lightly did our spirits leap! | 5 |
| Beautiful is the rise of Earth | |
| Up from the bosom of the deep, | |
| As at Creation’s birth! | |
| |
| ’T was land,—but no accustomed coast | |
| That woke such feelings of delight; | 10 |
| For now, the wide Atlantic crossed, | |
| The Old World met the sight. | |
| |
| The lofty ship went booming on, | |
| With full sails swelling gloriously; | |
| And, long before the day was gone, | 15 |
| There rose up near and high | |
| |
| Spain,—land of chivalry and romance,— | |
| Whose maidens erst, with dark-bright eyes, | |
| Looked down upon the splintered lance, | |
| And gave the victor’s prize. | 20 |
| |
| Proud Spain,—which sent the Armada forth, | |
| Magnificent but evil-starred, | |
| Against an island of the north, | |
| For whom the tempest warred. | |
| |
| Though once the mistress of the world, | 25 |
| Her far-off provinces Perus, | |
| Before that island’s flag unfurled | |
| Doomed pomp and power to lose. | |
| |
| Where Andalusia’s green hills slope, | |
| The eye could just behold afar | 30 |
| The column—with the telescope— | |
| Which stands on Trafalgar. | |
| |
| There last the Spanish ensign flew | |
| In war, while nations thronged the sea, | |
| Which Nelson’s prowess overthrew | 35 |
| In his death-victory! | |
| |
| As fast we swept through Calpe’s strait,— | |
| A continent on either hand,— | |
| We saw, like guardians of the gate, | |
| The mountain-monsters stand. | 40 |
| |
| While greenly swelled the Spanish shore, | |
| Sunburnt and steep, upon the right, | |
| Appeared the mountains of the Moor, | |
| Bare with primeval blight. | |
| |
| And, far in the interior, | 45 |
| Old Atlas propped the leaning sky, | |
| Wearing upon his shoulders hoar | |
| A snowy drapery. | |
| |
| The sun set,—and an instant’s shock | |
| Told that the ship was anchored now | 50 |
| Within the shadow of the Rock,— | |
| Beneath the Lion’s brow! | |
| |
| Thus opening on that glooming sea, | |
| Well seemed these walls the ends of earth: | |
| Death and a dark eternity | 55 |
| Sublimely symbolled forth! | |
| |
| Ere to one eagle soul was given | |
| The will—the wings—that deep to brave; | |
| In the sun’s path to find a heaven— | |
| A New World—o’er the wave! | 60 |
| |
| Retraced the path Columbus trod, | |
| Our course was from the setting sun; | |
| While all the visible works of God, | |
| Though various else, had one,— | |
| |
| One westward and unwearying march: | 65 |
| The crownéd day, from morn till even; | |
| From east to west, in night’s great arch, | |
| The starry host of heaven! | |
| |
| And aye, as Europe’s lights grow dim, | |
| May thine in the ascendant be, | 70 |
| I sing, as swells our martial hymn, | |
| America, to thee! | |
| |
