Where the cold circles gird the southern sky. Brave Magellan's wild channel caught his eye; The long cleft ridges wall'd the spreading way. That gleams far westward to an unknown sea. Soon as the distant swell was seen to roll, His ancient wishes reabsorb'd his soul; Warm from his heaving heart a sudden sigh Burst thro his lips; he turn'd his moisten'd eye, And thus besought his Angel: speak, my guide, Where leads the pass? and what yon purple tide? How the dim waves in blending ether stray! No lands behind them rise, no pinions on them play. There spreads, belike, that other unsail'd main I sought so long, and sought, alas, in vain; To gird this watery globe, and bring to light Old India's coast; and regions wrapt in night. Restore, celestial friend, my youthful morn, Call back my years, and let my fame return; Grant me to trace, beyond that pathless sea, Some happier shore from lust of empire free; To find in that far world a peaceful bower, From envy safe and curst Ovando's power. Earth's happiest realms let not their distance hide, Nor seas forever roll their useless tide. For nations yet unborn, that wait thy time, Demand their seats in that secluded clime; Ah, grant me still, their passage to prepare. One venturous bark, and be my life thy care. So pray'd the Hero; Hesper mild replies, Divine compassion softening in his eyes, Tho still to virtuous deeds thy mind aspires, And these glad visions kindle new desires, Yet hear with reverence what attends thy state, Nor wish to pass the eternal bounds of fate. Led by this sacred light thou soon shalt see That half mankind shall owe their seats to thee, Freedom's first empire claim its promised birth In these rich rounds of sea-encircled earth; Let other years, by thine example prest, Call forth their heroes to explore the rest. Thro different seas a twofold passage lies To where sweet India scents a waste of skies. The circling course, by Madagascar's shores, Round Afric's cape, bold Gama now explores; Thy well plann'd path these gleamy straits provide, Nor long shall rest the daring search untried. This idle frith must open soon to fame, Here a lost Lusitanian fix his name, From that new main in furious waves be tost, And fall neglected on the barbarous coast. But lo the Chief! bright Albion bids him rise, Speed in his pinions, ardor in his eyes! Hither, O Drake, display thy hastening sails, Widen ye passes, and awake ye gales, March thou before him, heaven-revolving sun, Wind his long course, and teach him where to run; Earth's distant shores, in circling bands unite, Lands, learn your fame, and oceans, roll in light, Round all the watery globe his flag be hurl'd, A new Columbus to the astonish'd world.