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Swiftly I shrivel at the thought of God,
fection, strength ?
found, The Younger melts in fondness in his arms.
9 Passage to more than India! Are thy wings plumed indeed for such far Alights ? O soul, voyagest thou indeed on voyages like those ? Disportest thou on waters such as those ? Soundest below the Sanscrit and the Vedas ? Then have thy bent unleash'd. Passage to you, your shores, ye aged fierce enigmas! Passage to you, to mastership of you, you strangling prob
lems! You, strew'd with the wrecks of skeletons, that, living,
never reach'd you. Passage to more than India! O secret of the earth and sky! Of you O waters of the sea ! O winding creeks and rivers !
Of you O woods and fields ! of you strong mountains of
Of you O prairies ! of you gray rocks !
enough? Have we not groveld here long enough, eating and drink
ing like mere brutes ? Have we not darken'd and dazed ourselves with books long
enough? Sail forth steer for the deep waters only, Reckless O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me, For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go, And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all. O my brave soul ! O farther farther sail ! O daring joy, but safe! are they not all the seas of God? O farther, farther, farther sail !
PRAYER OF COLUMBUS
A batter'd, wreck'd old man,
I cannot rest O God, I cannot eat or drink or sleep,
merely ; Thou knowest the prayers and vigils of my youth, Thou knowest my manhood's solemn and visionary medi
tations, Thou knowest how before I commenced I devoted all to
come to Thee, Thou knowest I have in age ratified all those vows and
strictly kept them, Thou knowest I have not once lost nor faith nor ecstasy
in Thee, In shackles, prison'd, in disgrace, repining not, Accepting all from Thee, as duly come from Thee. All my emprises have been fill’d with Thee, My speculations, plans, begun and carried on in thoughts
of Thee, Sailing the deep or journeying the land for Thee; Intentions, purports, aspirations mine, leaving results to
Thee. O I am sure they really came from Thee, The urge, the ardor, the unconquerable will, The potent, felt, interior command, stronger than words, A message from the Heavens whispering to me even in
sleep, These sped me on. By me and these the work so far accomplish’d, By me earth's elder cloy’d and stifled lands uncloy'd, un
loos’d, By me the hemispheres rounded and tied, the unknown to
The end I know not, it is all in Thee,
what lands, Haply the brutish measureless human undergrowth I know, Transplanted there may rise to stature, knowledge worthy
Thee, Haply the swords I know may there indeed be turn'd to
reaping-tools, Haply the lifeless cross I know, Europe's dead cross, may
bud and blossom there.
One effort more, my altar this bleak sand;
Shadowy vast shapes smile through the air and sky,
TO THINK OF TIME
To think of time — of all that retrospection,
dreaded these earth-beetles ?
women were flexible, real, alive — that every thing was
alive, To think that you and I did not see, feel, think, nor bear
our part, To think that we are now here and bear our part.
Not a day passes, not a minute or second without an ac
couchement, Not a day passes, not a minute or second without a corpse. The dull nights go over and the dull days also, The soreness of lying so much in bed goes over, The physician after long putting off gives the silent and
terrible look for an answer, The children come hurried and weeping, and the brothers
and sisters are sent for, Medicines stand unused on the shelf, (the camphor-smell
has long pervaded the rooms,) The faithful hand of the living does not desert the hand of
the dying, The twitching lips press lightly on the forehead of the