(Emblem of Truth divine, whose secret ray Enters the soul, and makes the darkness day!) "Pedro! Rodrigo! (50) there, methought it shone! There-in the west! and now, alas, 'tis gone!"T was all a dream! we gaze and gaze in vain! -But mark, and speak not, there it comes again! It moves!-what form unseen, what being there With torch-like lustre fires the murky air? His instincts, passions, say how like our own! Oh! when will day reveal a world unknown?"

CANTO IX.

The New World.

LONG on the wave the morning mists reposed, Then broke-and, melting into light, disclosed Half-circling hills, whose everlasting woods Sweep with their sable skirts the shadowy floods: And say, when all, to holy transport given, Embraced and wept as at the gates of Heaven, When one and all of us, repentant, ran, And, on our faces, bless'd the wondrous Man; Say, was I then deceived, or from the skies Burst on my ear seraphic harmonies ? "Glory to God!" unnumber'd voices sung, "Glory to God!" the vales and mountains rung, Voices that hail'd Creation's primal morn, And to the Shepherds sung a Savior born.

Slowly, bare-headed, through the surf we bore The sacred cross, (51) and, kneeling, kiss'd the shore. But what a scene was there! (52) Nymphs of romance, (53)

Youths graceful as the Faun, with eager glance, Spring from the glades, and down the alleys peep, Then headlong rush, bounding from steep to steep, And clap their hands, exclaiming as they run,

Come and behold the Children of the Sun!" When hark, a signal-shot! The voice, it came Over the sea in darkness and in flame! They saw, they heard; and up the highest hill, As in a picture, all at once were still! Creatures so fair, in garments strangely wrought, From citadels, with Heaven's own thunder fraught, Check'd their light footsteps-statue-like, they stood, As worshipp'd forms, the Genii of the Wood!

At length the spell dissolves! The warrior's lance Rings on the tortoise with wild dissonance! And see, the regal plumes, the couch of state! (54) Still, where it moves, the wise in council wait! See now borne forth the monstrous mask of gold,' And ebon chair' of many a serpent-fold; These now exchanged for gifts that thrice surpass The wondrous ring, and lamp, and horse of brass. (55) What long-drawn tube (56) transports the gazer home, Kindling with stars at noon the ethereal dome? "Tis here: and here circles of solid light 2 Charm with another self the cheated sight; As man to man another self disclose,

That now with terror starts, with triumph glows!

CANTO X.

Cora-luxuriant Vegetation-the Humming-bird-the Fountain of Youth.

THEN Cora came, the youngest of her race,
And in her hands she hid her lovely face;
Yet oft by stealth a timid glance she cast,
And now with playful step the Mirror pass'd,
Each bright reflection brighter than the last!
And oft behind it flew, and oft before;

The more she search'd, pleased and perplex'd the more!
And look'd and laugh'd, and blush'd with quick sur-

prise;

Her lips all mirth, all ecstasy her eyes!

But soon the telescope attracts her view;
And lo, her lover in his light canoe
Rocking, at noon-tide, on the silent sea,
Before her lies! It cannot, cannot be.
Late as he left the shore, she linger'd there,
Till, less and less, he melted into air!-
Sigh after sigh steals from her gentle frame,
And said that murmur-was it not his name?
She turns, and thinks; and, lost in wild amaze,
Gazes again, and could for ever gaze!

Nor can thy flute, Alonso, now excite,
As in Valencia, when, with fond delight,
Francisca, waking, to the lattice flew,
So soon to love and to be wretched too!
Hers through a convent-grate to send her last adieu.
Yet who now comes uncall'd; and round and round,
And near and nearer flutters to its sound;
Then stirs not, breathes not-on enchanted ground?
Who now lets fall the flowers she cull'd to wear
When he, who promised, should at eve be there;
And faintly smiles, and hangs her head aside
The tear that glistens on her cheek to hide!
Ah, who but Cora?-till inspired, possess'd,
At once she springs and clasps it to her breast!

Soon from the bay the mingling crowd ascends, Kindred first met! by sacred instinct Friends! Through citron-groves, and fields of yellow maize, (57) Through plantain-walks where not a sun-beam plays, There forests frown in midnight majesty; Here blue savannas fade into the sky, Ceiba, (58) and Indian fig, and plane sublime, Nature's first-born, and reverenced by Time! There sits the bird that speaks! (59) there, quivering

CANTO XI.

Evening a banquet-the ghost of Cazziva.
THE tamarind closed her leaves; the marmoset
Dream'd on his bough, and play'd the mimic yet.
Fresh from the lake the breeze of twilight blew,
And vast and deep the mountain-shadows grew;
When many a fire-fly, shooting through the glade,
Spangled the locks of many a lovely maid,
Who now danced forth to strew our path with flowers,
And hymn our welcome to celestial bowers.'

There odorous lamps adorn'd the festal rite,
And guavas blush'd as in the vales of light. (65)
There silent sat many an unbidden Guest, (66)
Whose stedfast looks a secret dread impress'd;
Not there forgot the sacred fruit that fed
At nightly feasts the Spirits of the Dead,
Mingling in scenes that mirth to mortals give,
But by their sadness known from those that live.

There met, as erst, within the wonted grove,
Unmarried girls and youths that died for love!
Sons now beheld their ancient sires again,
And sizes, alas, their sons in battle slain! (67)
But whence that sigh? "T was from a heart that

broke!

And whence that voice? As from the grave it spoke!
And who, as unresolved the feast to share,
Sits half-withdrawn in faded splendor there?
Tis he of yore, the warrior and the sage,
Whose lips have moved in prayer from age to age;
Whose eyes, that wander'd as in search before,
Now on Columbus fix'd-to search no more!
Cazziva, (68) gifted in his day to know
The gathering signs of a long night of woe;
Gifted by those who give but to enslave;
No rest in death! no refuge in the grave!
-With sudden spring as at the shout of war,
He flies! and, turning in his flight, from far
Glares through the gloom like some portentous star!
Unseen, unheard!-Hence, Minister of Ill! (69)
Hence, 't is not yet the hour! though come it will!
They that foretold-too soon shall they fulfil; (70)
When forth they rush as with the torrent's sweep, (71)
And deeds are done that make the Angels weep!

Hark, o'er the busy mead the shell 2 proclaims
Triumphs, and masques, and high heroic games.
And now the old sit round; and now the young
Climb the green boughs, the murmuring doves among.
Who claims the prize, when winged feet contend;
When twanging bows the flaming arrows send?
Who stands self-centred in the field of fame,
And, grappling, flings to earth a giant's frame?
Whilst all, with anxious hearts and eager eyes,
Bend as he bends, and, as he rises, rise!
And Cora's self, in pride of beauty here,
Trembles with grief and joy, and hope and fear!
(She who, the fairest, ever flew the first,
With cup of balm to quench his burning thirst;
Knelt at his head, her fan-leaf in her hand,
And humm'd the air that pleased him, while she fann'd)
How blest his lot!-though, by the muse unsung,
His name shall perish, when his knell is rung.

1 P. Martyr, dec. i, 5.

3 Rochefort, c. xx.

Twice the moon fill'd her silver urn with light, Then from the Throne an Angel wing'd his flight He, who unfix'd the compass, and assign'd O'er the wild waves a pathway to the wind; Who, while approach'd by none but Spirits pure, Wrought, in his progress through the dread obscure, Signs like the ethereal bow-that shall endure! (73) As he descended through the upper air, Day broke on day as God himself were there! Before the great Discoverer, laid to rest,

He stood, and thus his secret soul address'd: (74)

The wind recalls thee; its still voice obey, Millions await thy coming; hence, away! To thee blest tidings of great joy consign'd, Another Nature, and a new Mankind! The vain to dream, the wise to doubt shall cease; Young men be glad, and old depart in peace!! Hence! though assembling in the fields of air, Now, in a night of clouds, thy Foes prepare To rock the globe with elemental wars, And dash the floods of ocean to the stars; (75) To bid the meek repine, the valiant weep, And Thee restore thy Secret to the Deep! (76)

To other eyes shall Mexico unfold
Her feather'd tapestries, and roofs of gold.
To other eyes, from distant cliff descried, (77)
Shall the Pacific roll his ample tide;
There destined soon rich argosies to ride.
Chains thy reward! beyond the Atlantic wave
Hung in thy chamber, buried in thy grave! (78)
Thy reverend form, (79) to time and grief a prey,
A phantom wandering in the light of day!

"What though thy grey hairs to the dust descend
Their scent shall track thee, track thee to the end: +
Thy sons reproach'd with their great father's fame,
And on his world inscribed another's name!
That world a prison-house, full of sights of woe,
Where groans burst forth, and tears in torrents flow

1 P. Martyr, Epist. 133, 152.

2 See the Eumenides of Eschylus, v. 305, etc.

4 See the Eumenides, v. 246.

2 P. Martyr, dec. iii, c. 7.

3 Clavigero, VII. 52.

41

These gardens of the sun, sacred to song,
By dogs of carnage, (80) howling loud and long,
Swept-till the voyager, in the desert air, (81)
Starts back to hear his alter'd accents there! (82)

"Not thine the olive, but the sword to bring,
Not peace, but war! Yet from these shores shall spring
Peace without end;' from these, with blood defiled,
Spread the pure spirit of thy Master mild!

Here, in His train, shall arts and arms attend, (83)
Arts to adorn, and arms but to defend.
Assembling here, (84) all nations shall be blest;
The sad be comforted, the weary rest:
Untouch'd shall drop the fetters from the slave; (85)
And He shall rule the world he died to save!

"Hence, and rejoice. The glorious work is done.
A spark is thrown that shall eclipse the sun!
And though bad men shall long thy course pursue,
As erst the ravening brood o'er chaos flew,2
He, whom I serve, shall vindicate his reign;

The spoiler spoil'd of all; (86) the slayer slain; (87)
The tyrant's self, oppressing and opprest,
'Mid gems and gold unenvied and unblest: (88)
While to the starry sphere thy name shall rise,
(Not there unsung thy generous enterprise !)
Thine in all hearts to dwell-by Fame enshrined,
With those the Few, that live but for Mankind :
Thine evermore, transcendant happiness!
World beyond world to visit and to bless."

ON the two last leaves, and written in another hand, are some stanzas in the romance or ballad measure of the Spaniards. The subject is an adventure soon related.

Thy lonely watch-tower, Larenille,

Had lost the western sun;

And loud and long from hill to hill
Echoed the evening-gun,

When Hernan, rising on his oar,
Shot like an arrow from the shore.
-"Those lights are on St. Mary's Isle ;
They glimmer from the sacred pile."3
The waves were rough; the hour was late,
But soon across the Tinto borne,
Thrice he blew the signal-horn,
He blew and would not wait.
Home by his dangerous path he went;
Leaving, in rich habiliment,

Two Strangers at the Convent-gate. They ascended by steps hewn out in the rock; and, having asked for admittance, were lodged there.

Brothers in arms the Guests appear'd;
The Youngest with a Princely grace!
Short and sable was his beard,
Thoughtful and wan his face.
His velvet cap a medal bore.

And ermine fringed his broider'd vest;
And, ever sparkling on his breast,
An image of St. John he wore.4

The eldest had a rougher aspect, and there was craft in his eye. He stood a little behind in a long black mantle, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword; and his white hat and white shoes glittered in the moonshine.$

1 See Washington's farewell-address to his fellow-citizens. 2 See Paradise Lost, X. 3 The Convent of Rábida. 4 See Bernal Diaz, c. 203; and also a well-known portrait of Cortes, ascribed to Titian. Cortes was now in the 43d, Pizarro in the 60th year of his age 5 Augustin, Zarate, lib. iv, c. 9.

When other sounds had died away,
And the waves were heard alone,
They enter'd, though unused to pray,
Where God was worshipp'd, night and day,
And the dead knelt round in stone;
They enter'd, and from aisle to aisle
Wander'd with folded arms awhile,
Where on his altar-tomb (89) reclined
The crosier'd Abbot; and the Knight
In harness for the Christian fight,
His hands in supplication join'd;-
Then said as in a solemn mood,
"Now stand we where Columbus stood!"

The supper in the chamber done,
Much of a Southern Sea they spake,
And of that glorious city 4 won
Near the setting of the Sun,
Throned in a silver lake;

Of seven kings in chains of gold,
And deeds of death by tongue untold,
Deeds such as, breathed in secret there,
Had shaken the Confession-chair!

The Eldest swore by our Lady, the Youngest by his conscience; while the Franciscan, sitting by in his grey habit, turned away and crossed himself again and again. "Here is a little book," said he at last, "the work of him in his shroud below. It tells of things you have mentioned; and, were Cortes and Pizarro here, it might perhaps make them reflect for a moment." The youngest smiled as he took it into his hand. He read it aloud to his companion with an unfaltering voice; but, when he laid it down, a silence ensued; nor was he seen to smile again that night. "The curse is heavy," said he at parting, "but Cortes may live to disappoint it."-" Ay, and Pizarro too!"

A circumstance, recorded by Herrera, renders this visit not improbable. "In May 1528, Cortes arrived unexpectedly at Palos; and, soon after he had landed, he and Pizarro met and rejoiced; and it was remarkable that they should meet, as they were two of the most renowned men in the world." B. Diaz makes no mention of the interview; but, relating an occurrence that took place at this time in Palos, says, "that Cortes was now absent at Nuestra Senora de la Rábida." The Convent is within half a league of the town.

1 Late Superior of the House.

2 In the chancel of the cathedral of St. Domingo.

3 The words of the epitaph. "A Castilia y a Leon nuevo Mundo dio Colon." 4 Mexico.

5 Afterwards the arms of Cortes and his descendants. 6 Fernandez, lib. iì, c. 63.

7 B. Díaz, c. 203. 8 "After the death of Guatimotzin," says B. Diaz, "he became gloomy and restless; rising continually from his bed, and wandering about in the dark."-"Nothing prospered with him, and it was ascribed to the curses he was loaded with."

coverers, if we may believe B. Diaz and other contemporary writers, ended their days in a hermitage, or a cloister.

Note 16, page 29, col. 1.

'T was in the deep, immeasurable cave
Of Andes.

Vast indeed must be those dismal regions, if it be true, as conjectured (Kircher. Mund. Subt. I. 202), that Etna, in her eruptions, has discharged twenty times her original bulk. Well might she be called by Euripides (Troades, v. 222) The Mother of Mountains; yet Etna herself is but "a mere firework, when compared to the burning summits of the Andes."

Note 17, page 29, col. 2.

One-half the globe; from pole to pole confess'd. Gods, yet confessed later.-MILTON.Ils ne laissent pas d'en être les esclaves, et de les honorer plus que le grand Esprit, qui de sa nature est bon.LAFITAU.

Note 18, page 29, col. 2.

Where Plata and Maragnon meet the main.

Note 23, page 29, col. 2.

He spoke; and all was silence, all was night! These scattered fragments may be compared to shreds of old arras, or reflections from a river broken and confused by the oar; and now and then perhaps the imagination of the reader may supply more than is lost. Si qua latent, meliora putat. "It is remarkable," says the elder Pliny, "that the Iris of Aristides, the Tyndarides of Nicomachus, and the Venus of Apelles, are held in higher admiration than their finished works." And is it not so in almost everything?

Call up him that left half-told
The story of Cambuscan bold-
Note 24, page 30, col. 1.
The soldier, etc.

In the Lusiad, to beguile the heavy hours at sea, Veloso relates to his companions of the second watch the story of the Twelve Knights. L. vi.

Note 25, page 30, col. 1.

So Fortune smiled, careless of sea or land! Among those who went with Columbus, were many

Note 19, page 29, col. 2.

Of Huron or Ontario, inland seas.

Lakes of North America. Huron is above a thousand miles in circumference. Ontario receives the waters of the Niagara, so famous for its falls; and discharges itself into the Atlantic by the river St. Lawrence.

Note 20, page 29, col. 2.

By Ocean severed from a world of shade. La plupart de ces îles ne sont en effet que des pointes de montagnes: et la mer, qui est au-delà, est une vrai mer Méditerranée.-BUFFON.

Note 21, page 29, col. 2.

Hung in the tempest o'er the troubled main. The dominion of a bad angel over an unknown sea, infestandole con sus torbellinos y tempestades, and his flight before a Christian hero, are described in glowing language by Ovalle.-Hist. de Chile, IV. 8.

Note 22, page 29, col. 2.

No voice, as erst, shall in the desert rise;

Alluding to the oracles of the Islanders, so soon to become silent; and particularly to a prophecy, delivered down from their ancestors, and sung with loud lamentations (Petr. Martyr. dec. 3, lib. 7) at their solemn festivals (Herrera, I, iii, 4) that the country would be laid waste on the arrival of strangers, completely clad, from a region near the rising of the sun. Ibid. II, 5, 2. It is said that Cazziva, a great Cacique, after long fasting and many ablutions, had an interview with one of the Zemi, who announced to him this terrible event (F. Columbus, c. 62), as the oracles of Latona, according to Herodotus (II, 152) predicted the overthrow of eleven kings of Egypt, on the appearance of men of brass, risen out of the sea.

Nor did this prophecy exist among the Islanders alone. It influenced the councils of Montezuma, and extended almost universally over the forests of America. Cortes. Herrera. Gomara. "The demons whom they worshipped,' says Acosta," in this instance told hem the truth."

the

game then in fashion.-See VEGA, p. 2, lib. iii, c. 9. Note 26, page 30, col. 1.

Yet who but He undaunted could explore. Many sighed and wept; and every hour seemed a year, says Herrera.-I, i, 9 and 10.

Note 27, page 30, col. 2.

The solemn march, the vows in concert given. His public procession to the convent of Rábida on the day before he set sail. It was there that his sons had received their education; and he himself appears to have passed some time there, the venerable Guardian, Juan Perez de Marchena, being his zealous and affectionate friend. The ceremonies of his departure and return are represented in many of the fresco paintings in the palaces of Genoa.

Note 28, page 30, col. 2.

While his dear boys-ah, on his neck they hung.

But I was most afflicted, when I thought of my two sons, whom I had left behind me in a strange country-before I had done, or at least could be known to have done, anything which might incline your highnesses to remember them. And though I would not suffer so earnest an endeavor for the excomforted myself with the reflection that our Lord altation of his church to come to nothing, yet I considered that, on account of my unworthiness," etc.F. COLUMBUS, c. 37.