"Next drive we o'er the slimy-weeded sea, 'Lo! here beneath,' another coward cries, 'The cursed land of sunk Atlantis lies; This slime will suck us down--turn while thou'rt free!' 'But no!' I said, 'freedom bears West for me!' Yet when the long-time stagnant winds arise, And day by day the keel to westward flies, My Good my people's Ill doth come to be; Ever the winds into the west do blow; Never a ship, once turned, might homeward go; Meanwhile we speed into the lonesome main. 'For Christ's sake, parley, Admiral! Turn, before We sail outside all bounds of help from pain.' 'Our help is in the West,' I said once more. "So when there came a mighty cry of Land! And we clomb up and saw, and shouted strong '_Salve Regina!_' all the ropes along, But knew at morn how that a counterfeit band Of level clouds had aped a silver strand; So when we heard the orchard-bird's small song, And all the people cried, 'A hellish throng To tempt us onward, by the Devil planned, Yea, all from hell--keen heron, fresh green weeds, Pelican, tunny-fish, fair tapering reeds, Lie-telling lands that ever shine and die In clouds of nothing round the empty sky. 'Tired Admiral, get thee from this hell, and rest!' 'Steersman,' I said, 'hold straight into the West.' * * * * * "I marvel how mine eye, ranging the Night, From its big circling ever absently Returns, thou large, low star, to fix on thee. Maria! Star? No star; a Light, a Light! Wouldst leap ashore, Heart? Yonder burns a Light! 'Pedro Gutierrez, wake! come up to me. I prithee stand and gaze about the sea; What seest?' 'Admiral, like as land--a Light!' 'Well, Sanchez of Segovia come and try; What seest?' 'Admiral, naught but sea and sky!' 'Well, but I saw it. Wait, the Pinta's gun! Why, look! 'tis dawn! the land is clear; 'tis done! Two dawns do break at once from Time's full hand-- God's East--mine, West! Good friends, behold my Land!'" PASSION FOR GOLD. EUGENE LAWRENCE, an American historical writer. Born in New York, 1823. From "The Mystery of Columbus," in _Harper's Magazine_, May, 1892.[46] In Columbus the passion for gold raged with a violence seldom known. He dreamed of golden palaces, heaps of treasure, and mines teeming with endless wealth. His cry was everywhere for gold. Every moment, in his fierce avarice, he would fancy himself on the brink of boundless opulence; he was always about to seize the treasures of the East, painted by Marco Polo and Mandeville. "Gold," he wrote to the King and Queen, "is the most valuable thing in the world; it rescues souls from purgatory and restores them to the joys of paradise." [Illustration: STATUE OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS IN THE MARINOL (MINISTRY OF THE COLONIES), MADRID, SPAIN. Sculptor, Senor J. Samartin.] THE TRIBUTE AND TESTIMONY OF THE POPE.