The Columbiad by Joel Barlow
page 26 of 390 (06%)
page 26 of 390 (06%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
Sweats the chill sod and breathes inclement skies.
His feverish pulse, slow laboring thro his frame, Feeds with scant force its fast expiring flame; A far dim watch-lamp's thrice reflected beam Throws thro his grates a mist-encumber'd gleam, Paints the dun vapors that the cell invade, And fills with spectred forms the midnight shade; When from a visionary short repose, That nursed new cares and temper'd keener woes, Columbus woke, and to the walls addrest The deep felt sorrows bursting from his breast: Here lies the purchase, here the wretched spoil Of painful years and persevering toil. For these damp caves, this hideous haunt of pain, I traced new regions o'er the chartless main, Tamed all the dangers of untraversed waves, Hung o'er their clefts, and topt their surging graves, Saw traitorous seas o'er coral mountains sweep, Red thunders rock the pole and scorch the deep, Death rear his front in every varying form, Gape from the shoals and ride the roaring storm, My struggling bark her seamy planks disjoin, Rake the rude rock and drink the copious brine. Till the tired elements are lull'd at last, And milder suns allay the billowing blast, Lead on the trade winds with unvarying force, And long and landless curve our constant course. |
|