Thoughtful he wander'd on the beach alone; Mild o'er the deep the vesper planet shone, The eye of evening, brightening through the west Till the sweet moment when it shut to rest: "Whither, O golden Venus! art thou fled? Not in the ocean-chambers lies thy bed; Round the dim world thy glittering chariot drawn Pursues the twilight, or precedes the dawn; Thy beauty noon and midnight never see, The morn and eve divide the year with thee." Soft fell the shades, till Cynthia's slender bow Crested the furthest wave, then sunk below: "Tell me, resplendent guardian of the night, Circling the sphere in thy perennial flight, What secret path of heaven thy smiles adorn, What nameless sea reflects thy gleaming horn?" Now earth and ocean vanish'd, all serene The starry firmament alone was seen; Through the slow, silent hours, he watch'd the host Of midnight suns in western darkness lost, Till Night himself, on shadowy pinions borne, Fled o'er the mighty waters, and the morn Danced on the mountains:--"Lights of heaven!" he cried, "Lead on;--I go to win a glorious bride; Fearless o'er gulfs unknown I urge my way, Where peril prowls, and shipwreck lurks for prey: Hope swells my sail;--in spirit I behold That maiden-world, twin-sister of the old, By nature nursed beyond the jealous sea, Denied to ages, but betroth'd to me." JAMES MONTGOMERY. In 1484 Columbus laid his plan before King John II, of Portugal, but became so disgusted with his treachery and double-dealing, that he left Portugal and entered the service of Ferdinand and Isabella. The Spanish monarchs listened to him with attention, and ordered that the greatest astronomers and cosmographers of the kingdom should assemble at Salamanca and pass upon the feasibility of the project. COLUMBUS [January, 1487] St. Stephen's cloistered hall was proud In learning's pomp that day, For there a robed and stately crowd Pressed on in long array. A mariner with simple chart Confronts that conclave high, While strong ambition stirs his heart, And burning thoughts of wonder part From lip and sparkling eye. What hath he said? With frowning face, In whispered tones they speak, And lines upon their tablets trace, Which flush each ashen cheek; The Inquisition's mystic doom Sits on their brows severe, And bursting forth in visioned gloom, Sad heresy from burning tomb Groans on the startled ear. Courage, thou Genoese! Old Time Thy splendid dream shall crown; Yon Western Hemisphere sublime, Where unshorn forests frown, The awful Andes' cloud-wrapt brow, The Indian hunter's bow, Bold streams untamed by helm or prow, And rocks of gold and diamonds, thou To thankless Spain shalt show.