. Poems . gy the West! * Ah no! he cried, and calmed his anxious brow. \ 111, nor the signs of ill, tis thine to show ; > Thine but to lead me where I wished to go! j Columbus erred not. In that awful forth to save, and girt with God-like power,And glorious as the regent of the sun, tAn Angel came! He spoke, and it was done!He spoke, and, at his call, a mighty W^ind,Not like the fitful blast, with fury deep, majestic, in its destined course,Sprung with unerring, unrelenting force, * Henera, dec. I. lib. i. c. 0. f Rev. xix. 17. 230 From the bright East. Tides duly ebbed
. Poems . gy the West! * Ah no! he cried, and calmed his anxious brow. \ 111, nor the signs of ill, tis thine to show ; > Thine but to lead me where I wished to go! j Columbus erred not. In that awful forth to save, and girt with God-like power,And glorious as the regent of the sun, tAn Angel came! He spoke, and it was done!He spoke, and, at his call, a mighty W^ind,Not like the fitful blast, with fury deep, majestic, in its destined course,Sprung with unerring, unrelenting force, * Henera, dec. I. lib. i. c. 0. f Rev. xix. 17. 230 From the bright East. Tides duly ebbed and flowed;Stars rose and set; and new horizons glowed;Yet still it blew! As with primeval swayStill did its ample spirit, night and day,Move on the waters!—All, resigned to Fate,Folded their arms and sate; and seemed to waitSome sudden change; and sought, in chill suspense,New spheres of being, and new modes of sense;As men departing, though not doomed to die,And midway on their passage to eternity. ^ k. 231 CANTO II. The Vojjage continued. What vast foundations in the Abyss are there,As of a former world? Is it not whereAtlantic kings their barbarous pomp displayed ;Sunk into darkness with the realms they swayed,When towers and temples, thro the closing wave,A glimmering ray of ancient splendour gave—And we shall rest with them.—Or are we thrown(Each gazed on each, and all exclaimed as one)* Where things familiar cease and strange progress barred to those without, within ?—Soon is the doubt resolved. Arise, behold—We stop to stir no more . . nor will the tale be told. The pilot smote his breast; the watchman cried Land! and his voice in faltering accents once the fury of the prow was quelled;And (whence or why from many an age withlield)Shrieks, not of men, were mingling in the blast;And armed shapes of god-like stature passed! 2S2 Slowly along the evening-sky they went,As on the edge of some vast battlement;Helmet and shield, and spear and gonfalo
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