The Columbiad: A Poem - BestLightNovel.com
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Yet when the hordes to happy nations rise, And earth By culture warms the genial skies, A fairer tint and more majestic grace Shall flush their features and exalt the race; While milder arts, with social joys refined, Inspire new beauties in the growing mind.
Thy followers too, old Europe's n.o.blest pride, When future gales shall wing them o'er the tide, A ruddier hue and deeper shade shall gain, And stalk, in statelier figures, on the plain.
While nature's grandeur lifts the eye abroad O'er these last labors of the forming G.o.d, Wing'd on a wider glance the venturous soul Bids greater powers and bolder thoughts unrol; The sage, the chief, the patriot unconfined, s.h.i.+eld the weak world and meliorate mankind.
But think not thou, in all the range of man, That different pairs each different cast began; Or tribes distinct, by signal marks confest, Were born to serve or subjugate the rest.
The Hero heard, and thus resumed the strain: Who led these wanderers o'er the dreary main?
Could their weak sires, unskill'd in human lore, Build the bold bark, to seek an unknown sh.o.r.e?
A sh.o.r.e so distant from the world beside, So dark the tempests, and so wild the tide, That Greece and Tyre, and all who tempt the sea, Have shunn'd the task, and left the fame to me.
When first thy roving race, the Power replied, Learn'd by the stars the devious sail to guide, From stormy h.e.l.lespont explored the way, And sought the limits of the Midland sea; Before Alcides form'd his impious plan To check the sail, and bound the steps of man, This hand had led them to this rich abode, And braved the wrath of that strong demiG.o.d.
Driven from the Calpian strait, a hapless train Roll'd on the waves that sweep the western main; Storms from the orient bhcken'd heaven with shade, Nor sun nor stars could yield their wonted aid.
For many a darksome day o'erwhelm'd and tost, Their sails, their oars in swallowing surges lost, At length, the clouds withdrawn, they sad descry Their course directing from their native sky.
No hope remains; far onward o'er the zone The trade wind bears them with the circling sun; Till wreck'd and stranded here, the sylvan coast Receives to lonely seats the suffering host.
The fruitful vales invite their steps to roam, Renounce their sorrows and forget their home; Revolving years their ceaseless wanderings led, And from their sons descending nations spread.
These in the torrid tracts began their sway, Whose cultured fields their growing arts display; The northern tribes a later stock may boast, A race descended from the Asian coast.
High in the Arctic, where Anadir glides, A narrow strait the impinging worlds divides; There Tartar fugitives from famine sail, And migrant tribes these fruitful sh.o.r.elands hail.
He spoke; when Behren's pa.s.s before them lay, And moving nations on the margin stray, Thick swarming, venturous; sail and oar they ply, Climb on the surge and o'er the billows fly.
As when autumnal storms awake their force.
The storks foreboding tempt their southern course; From all the fields collecting throngs arise, Mount on the wing and crowd along the skies: Thus, to his eye, from bleak Tartaria's sh.o.r.e, Thro isles and seas, the gathering people pour, Change their cold regions for a happier strand, Leap from the wave and tread the welcome land; In growing tribes extend their southern sway, And wander wide beneath a warmer day.
But why, the Chief replied, if ages past Led the bold vagrants to so mild a waste; If human souls, for social compact given, Inform their nature with the stamp of heaven.
Why the wild woods for ever must they rove, Nor arts nor social joys their pa.s.sions move?
Long is the lapse of ages, since thy hand Conducted here thy first adventurous band.
On other sh.o.r.es, in every eastern clime, Since that unletter'd, distant tract of time, What arts have sprung, imperial powers to grace!
What sceptres sway'd the many-master'd race!
Guilt, grandeur, glory from their seats been hurl'd, And dire divulsions shook the changing world!
Ere Rome's first Eagle clave the frighted air, Ere Sparta form'd her deathlike sons of war, Ere Tyre and Ilion saw their towers arise, Or Memphian pyramids usurp'd the skies, These tribes have forester'd the fruitful zone, Their seats unsettled, and their name unknown.
Hesper to this replied: A scanty train, In that far age, approach'd the wide domain; The wide domain, with game and fruitage crown'd, Supplied their food uncultured from the ground.
By nature form'd to rove, the humankind, Of freedom fond, will ramble unconfined, Till all the region fills, and rival right Restrains their steps, and bids their force unite; When common safety builds a common cause, Conforms their interest and inspires their laws; By mutual checks their different manners blend, Their fields bloom joyous, and their walls ascend.
Here to the vagrant tribes no bounds arose, They form'd no union, as they fear'd no foes; Wandering and wild, from sire to son they stray, A thousand ages, scorning every sway.
And what a world their seatless nations led!
A total hemisphere around them spread; See the lands lengthen, see the rivers roll, To each far main, to each extended pole!
But lo, at last the destined course is run, The realms are peopled and their arts begun.
Where yon mid region elevated lies, A few famed cities glitter to the skies; There move, in eastern pomp, the toils of state, And temples heave, magnificently great.
The Hero turn'd to greet the novel sight; When three far splendors, yet confusedly bright, Rose like a constellation; till more near, Distinctly mark'd their different sites appear; Diverging still, beneath their roofs of gold, Three cities gay their mural towers unfold.
So, led by visions of his guiding G.o.d, The seer of Patmos o'er the welkin trod, Saw the new heaven its flamy cope unbend, And walls and gates and spiry domes descend; His well known sacred city grows, and gains Her new built towers, her renovated fanes; With golden skies and suns and rainbows crown'd, Jerusalem looks forth and lights the world around.
Bright on the north imperial Mexic rose; A mimic morn her sparkling vanes disclose, Her opening streets concentred hues display, Give back the sun, and shed internal day; The circling wall with guardian turrets frown'd, And look'd defiance to the realms around; A glimmering lake without the wall retires, Inverts the towers, and seems a grove of spires.
Proud o'er the midst, on columns lifted high, A giant structure claims a loftier sky; O'er the tall gates sublimer arches bend, Courts larger lengthen, bolder walks ascend, Starr'd with superior gems the porches s.h.i.+ne, And speak the royal residence writhin.
There, deck'd in state robes, on his golden throne, Mid suppliant kings, dread Montezuma shone; Mild in his eye a temper'd grandeur sate, High seem'd his soul, with conscious power elate; In aspect open, social and serene, Enclosed by favorites, and of friends unseen.
Round the rich throne, in various l.u.s.tre dight, Gems undistinguished cast a changing light; Sapphire and emerald soften down the scene, Cold azure mingling with the vernal green, Pearl, amber, ruby warmer flames unfold, And diamonds brighten from the burning gold; Thro all the dome the living blazes blend, And shoot their rainbows where the arches bend.
On every ceiling, painted light and gay, Symbolic forms their graphic art display; Recording, confident of endless fame, Each feat of arms, each patriarchal name; Like Memphian hieroglyphs, to stretch the span Of memory frail in momentary man.
Pour'd thro the gates a hundred nations greet, Throng the rich mart and line each ample street, Ply different labors, walls and structures rear, Or till the fields, or train the ranks of war.
Thro spreading states the skirts of empire bend, New temples rise and other plains extend; Thrice ten wide provinces, in culture gay, Bless the same king, and daily firm the sway.
A smile benignant kindling in his eyes, O happy realm! the glad Columbus cries, Far in the midland, safe from every foe, Thy arts shall flourish as thy virtues grow, To endless years thy rising fame extend, And sires of nations from thy sons descend.
May no gold-thirsty race thy temples tread, Insult thy rites, nor heap thy plains with dead; No Bovadilla seize the tempting spoil, No dark Ovando, no religious Boyle, In mimic priesthood grave, or robed in state, Overwhelm thy glories in oblivious fate!
Vain are thy hopes, the sainted Power replied, These rich abodes from Spanish hordes to hide, Or teach hard guilt and cruelty to spare The guardless prize of sacrilegious war.
Think not the vulture, mid the field of slain, Where base and brave promiscuous strow the plain, Where the young hero in the pride of charms Pours brighter crimson o'er his spotless arms, Will pa.s.s the tempting prey, and glut his rage On harder flesh, and carnage black with age; O'er all alike he darts his eager eye, Whets the blunt beak and hovers down the sky, From countless corses picks the dainty food, And screams and fattens in the purest blood.
So the vile hosts, that hither trace thy way, On happiest tribes with fiercest fury prey.
Thine the dread task, O Cortez, here to show What unknown crimes can heighten human woe, On these fair fields the blood of realms to pour, Tread sceptres down, and print thy steps in gore, With gold and carnage swell thy sateless mind, And live and die the blackest of mankind.
He gains the sh.o.r.e. Behold his fortress rise, His fleet high flaming suffocates the skies.
The march begins; the nations in affright Quake as he moves, and wage the fruitless fight; Thro the rich provinces he bends his way, Kings in his chain, and kingdoms for his prey; Full on the imperial town infuriate falls, And pours destruction o'er its batter'd walls.
In quest of peace great Montezuma stands, A sovereign supplicant with lifted hands, Brings all his treasure, yields the regal sway, Bids va.s.sal millions their new lord obey; And plies the victor with incessant prayer, Thro ravaged realms the harmless race to spare.
But treasures, tears and sceptres plead in vain, Nor threats can move him, nor a world restrain; While blind religion's prost.i.tuted name And monkish fury guide the sacred flame.
O'er crowded fanes their fires unhallow'd bend, Climb the wide roofs, the lofty towers ascend, Pour thro the lowering skies the smoky flood, And stain the fields, and quench the blaze in blood.
Columbus heard; and, with a heaving sigh, Dropt the full tear that started in his eye: O hapless day! his trembling voice replied, That saw my wandering pennon mount the tide.
Had but the lamp of heaven to that bold sail Ne'er mark'd the pa.s.sage nor awoke the gale, Taught foreign prows these peopled sh.o.r.es to find, Nor led those tigers forth to fang mankind; Then had the tribes beneath these bounteous skies Seen their walls widen and their harvests rise; Down the long tracts of time their glory shone, Broad as the day and lasting as the sun.
The growing realms, behind thy s.h.i.+eld that rest, Paternal monarch, still thy power had blest, Enjoy'd the pleasures that surround thy throne, Survey'd thy virtues and improved their own.
Forgive me, prince; this luckless arm hath led The storm unseen that hovers o'er thy head; Taught the dark sons of slaughter where to roam, To seize thy crown and seal the nation's doom.
Arm, sleeping empire, meet the murderous band, Drive back the invaders, save the sinking land.-- But vain the call! behold the streaming blood!
Forgive me, Nature! and forgive me, G.o.d!
While sorrows thus his patriarch pride control, Hesper reproving sooths his tender soul: Father of this new world, thy tears give o'er, Let virtue grieve and heaven be blamed no more.
Enough for man, with persevering mind, To act his part and strive to bless his kind; Enough for thee, o'er thy dark age to soar, And raise to light that long-secluded sh.o.r.e.
For this my guardian care thy youth inspired, To virtue rear'd thee, and with glory fired, Bade in thy plan each distant world unite, And wing'd thy vessel for the venturous flight.
Nor think the labors vain; to good they tend; Tyrants like these shall ne'er defeat their end; Their end that opens far beyond the scope Of man's past efforts and his present hope.
Long has thy race, to narrow sh.o.r.es confined, Trod the same round that fetter'd fast the mind; Now, borne on bolder plumes, with happier flight, The world's broad bounds unfolding to the sight, The mind shall soar; the coming age expand Their arts and lore to every barbarous land; And buried gold, drawn copious from the mine, Give wings to commerce and the world refine.
Now to yon southern cities turn thy view, And mark the rival seats of rich Peru.
See Quito's airy plains, exalted high, With loftier temples rise along the sky; And elder Cusco's s.h.i.+ning roofs unfold, Flame on the day, and shed their suns of gold.
Another range, in these pacific climes, Spreads a broad theatre for unborn crimes; Another Cortez shall their treasures view, His rage rekindle and his guilt renew; His treason, fraud, and every fell design, O curst Pizarro, shall revive in thine.
Here reigns a prince, whose heritage proclaims A long bright lineage of imperial names; Where the brave roll of Incas love to trace The distant father of their realm and race, Immortal Capac. He, in youthful pride, With young Oella his ill.u.s.trious bride, Announced their birth divine; a race begun From heaven, the children of their G.o.d the Sun; By him sent forth a polish'd state to frame, Crush the fiend G.o.ds that human victims claim, With cheerful rites their pure devotions pay To the bright orb that gives the changing day.
On this great plan, as children of the skies, They plied their arts and saw their hamlets rise.
First of their works, and sacred to their fame.
Yon proud metropolis received its name, Cusco the seat of states, in peace design'd To reach o'er earth, and civilize mankind.
Succeeding sovereigns spread their limits far, Tamed every tribe, and sooth'd the rage of war; Till Quito bow'd; and all the heliac zone Felt the same sceptre, and confirm'd the throne.
Near Cusco's walls, where still their hallow'd isle Bathes in its lake and wears its verdant smile, Where these prime parents of the sceptred line Their advent made, and spoke their birth divine, Behold their temple stand; its glittering spires Light the glad waves and aid their father's fires.
Arch'd in the walls of gold, its portal gleams With various gems of intermingling beams; And flaming from the front, with borrow'd ray, A diamond circlet gives the rival day; In whose bright face forever looks abroad The labor'd image of the radiant G.o.d.
There dwells the royal priest, whose inner shrine Conceals his lore; tis there his voice divine Proclaims the laws; and there a cloister'd quire Of holy virgins keep the sacred fire.