"Now speaks mine other heart with cheerier seeming: `Ho, Admiral! o'er-defalking to thy crew Against thyself, thyself far overfew To front yon multitudes of rebel scheming?' Come, ye wild twenty years of heavenly dreaming! Come, ye wild weeks since first this canvas drew Out of vexed Palos ere the dawn was blue, O'er milky waves about the bows full-creaming! Come set me round with many faithful spears Of confident remembrance -- how I crushed Cat-lived rebellions, pitfalled treasons, hushed Scared husbands' heart-break cries on distant wives, Made cowards blush at whining for their lives, Watered my parching souls, and dried their tears. V. "Ere we Gomera cleared, a coward cried, `Turn, turn: here be three caravels ahead, From Portugal, to take us: we are dead!' `Hold Westward, pilot,' calmly I replied. So when the last land down the horizon died, `Go back, go back!' they prayed: `our hearts are lead.' -- `Friends, we are bound into the West,' I said. Then passed the wreck of a mast upon our side. `See' (so they wept) `God's Warning! Admiral, turn!' -- `Steersman,' I said, `hold straight into the West.' Then down the night we saw the meteor burn. `So do the very heavens in fire protest: Good Admiral, put about! O Spain, dear Spain!' -- `Hold straight into the West,' I said again. VI. "Next drive we o'er the slimy-weeded sea. `Lo! herebeneath' (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. VII. "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.' VIII.