The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea: Book The Fifth.

Such are thy views, DISCOVERY! The great world     Rolls to thine eye revealed; to thee the Deep     Submits its awful empire; Industry     Awakes, and Commerce to the echoing marts     From east to west unwearied pours her wealth.     Man walks sublimer; and Humanity,     Matured by social intercourse, more high,     More animated, lifts her sovereign mien,     And waves her golden sceptre. Yet the heart     Asks trembling, is no evil found! Oh, turn,     Meek Charity, and drop a human tear     For the sad fate of Afric's injured sons,     And hide, for ever hide, the sight of chains,     Anguish, and bondage! Yes, the heart of man     Is sick, and Charity turns pale, to think     How soon, for pure religion's holy beam,     Dark crimes, that sullied the sweet day, pursued,     Like vultures, the Discoverer's ocean tract,     Screaming for blood, to fields of rich Peru,     Or ravaged Mexico, while Gold more Gold!     The caverned mountains echoed, Gold more Gold!     Then see the fell-eyed, prowling buccaneer,     Grim as a libbard! He his jealous look     Turns to the dagger at his belt, his hand     By instinct grasps a bloody scymitar,     And ghastly is his smile, as o'er the woods     He sees the smoke of burning villages     Ascend, and thinks ev'n now he counts his spoil.     See thousands destined to the lurid mine,     Never to see the sun again; all names     Of husband, sire, all tender charities     Of love, deep buried with them in that grave,     Where life is as a thing long passed; and hope     No more its sickly ray, to cheer the gloom,     Extends.     Thou, too, dread Ocean, toss thine arms,     Exulting, for the treasures and the gems     That thy dark oozy realm emblaze; and call     The pale procession of the dead, from caves     Where late their bodies weltered, to attend     Thy kingly sceptre, and proclaim thy might!     Lord of the Hurricane! bid all thy winds     Swell, and destruction ride upon the surge,     Where, after the red lightning flash that shows     The labouring ship, all is at once deep night     And long suspense, till the slow dawn of day     Gleams on the scattered corses of the dead,     That strew the sounding shore!         Then think of him,     Ye who rejoice with those you love, at eve,     When winds of winter shake the window-frame,     And more endear your fire, oh, think of him,     Who, saved alone from the destroying storm,     Is cast on some deserted rock; who sees     Sun after sun descend, and hopeless hears;     At morn the long surge of the troubled main,     That beats without his wretched cave; meantime     He fears to wake the echoes with his voice,     So dread the solitude!     Let Greenland's snows     Then shine, and mark the melancholy train     There left to perish, whilst the cold pale day     Declines along the further ice, that binds     The ship, and leaves in night the sinking scene.     Sad winter closes on the deep; the smoke     Of frost, that late amusive to the eye     Rose o'er the coast, is passed, and all is now     One torpid blank; the freezing particles     Blown blistering, and the white bear seeks her cave.     Ill-fated outcasts, when the morn again     Shall streak with feeble beam the frozen waste,     Your air-bleached and unburied carcases     Shall press the ground, and, as the stars fade off,     Your stony eyes glare 'mid the desert snows!     These triumphs boast, fell Demon of the Deep!     Though never more the universal shriek     Of all that perish thou shalt hear, as when     The deep foundations of the guilty earth     Were shaken at the voice of God, and man     Ceased in his habitations; yet the sea     Thy might tempestuous still, and joyless rule,     Confesses. Ah! what bloodless shadows throng     Ev'n now, slow rising from their oozy beds,     From Mete,[1] and those gates of burial     That guard the Erythran; from the vast     Unfathomed caverns of the Western main     Or stormy Orcades; whilst the sad shell     Of poor Arion,[2] to the hollow blast     Slow seems to pour its melancholy tones,     And faintly vibrate, as the dead pass by.     I see the chiefs, who fell in distant lands,     The prey of murderous savages, when yells,     And shouts, and conch, resounded through the woods.     Magellan and De Solis seem to lead     The mournful train. Shade of Perouse! oh, say     Where, in the tract of unknown seas, thy bones     Th' insulting surge has swept?         But who is he,     Whose look, though pale and bloody, wears the trace     Of pure philanthropy? The pitying sigh     Forbid not; he was dear to Britons, dear     To every beating heart, far as the world     Extends; and my faint faltering touch ev'n now     Dies on the strings, when I pronounce thy name,     Oh, lost, lamented, generous, hapless Cook!     But cease the vain complaint; turn from the shores,     Wet with his blood, Remembrance: cast thine eyes     Upon the long seas, and the wider world,     Displayed from his research. Smile, glowing Health!     For now no more the wasted seaman sinks,     With haggard eye and feeble frame diseased;     No more with tortured longings for the sight     Of fields and hillocks green, madly he calls     On Nature, when before his swimming eye     The liquid long expanse of cheerless seas     Seems all one flowery plain. Then frantic dreams     Arise; his eye's distemper'd flash is seen     From the sunk socket, as a demon there     Sat mocking, till he plunges in the flood,     And the dark wave goes o'er him.         Nor wilt thou,     O Science! fail to deck the cold morai[3]     Of him who wider o'er earth's hemisphere     Thy views extended. On, from deep to deep,     Thou shalt retrace the windings of his track;     From the high North to where the field-ice binds     The still Antarctic. Thence, from isle to isle,     Thou shalt pursue his progress; and explore     New-Holland's eastern shores,[4] where now the sons     Of distant Britain, from her lap cast out,     Water the ground with tears of penitence,     Perhaps, hereafter, in their destined time,     Themselves to rise pre-eminent. Now speed,     By Asia's eastern bounds, still to the North,     Where the vast continents of either world     Approach: Beyond, 'tis silent boundless ice,     Impenetrable barrier, where all thought     Is lost; where never yet the eagle flew,     Nor roamed so far the white bear through the waste.     But thou, dread POWER! whose voice from chaos called     The earth, who bad'st the Lord of light go forth,     Ev'n as a giant, and the sounding seas     Roll at thy fiat: may the dark deep clouds,     That thy pavilion shroud from mortal sight,     So pass away, as now the mystery,     Obscure through rolling ages, is disclosed;     How man, from one great Father sprung, his race     Spread to that severed continent! Ev'n so,     FATHER, in thy good time, shall all things stand     Revealed to knowledge.         As the mind revolves     The change of mighty empires, and the fate     Of HIM whom Thou hast made, back through the dusk     Of ages Contemplation turns her view:     We mark, as from its infancy, the world     Peopled again, from that mysterious shrine     That rested on the top of Ararat,     Highest of Asian mountains; spreading on,     The Cushites from their mountain caves descend;     Then before GOD the sons of Ammon stood     In their gigantic might, and first the seas     Vanquished: But still from clime to clime the groan     Of sacrifice, and Superstition's cry,     Was heard; but when the Dayspring rose of heaven,     Greece's hoar forests echoed, The great Pan     Is dead! From Egypt, and the rugged shores     Of Syrian Tyre, the gods of darkness fly;     Bel is cast down, and Nebo, horrid king,     Bows in imperial Babylon: But, ah!     Too soon, the Star of Bethlehem, whose ray     The host of heaven hailed jubilant, and sang,     Glory to God on high, and on earth peace,     With long eclipse is veiled.         Red Papacy     Usurped the meek dominion of the Lord     Of love and charity: vast as a fiend     She rose, Heaven's light was darkened with her frown,     And the earth murmured back her hymns of blood,     As the meek martyr at the burning stake     Stood, his last look uplifted to his GOD!     But she is now cast down, her empire reft.     They who in darkness walked, and in the shade     Of death, have seen a new and holy light,     As in th' umbrageous forest, through whose boughs,     Mossy and damp, for many a league, the morn     With languid beam scarce pierces, here and there     Touching some solitary trunk, the rest     Dark waving in the noxious atmosphere:     Through the thick-matted leaves the serpent winds     His way, to find a spot of casual sun;     The gaunt hyna through the thicket glides     At eve: then, too, the couched tiger's eye     Flames in the dusk, and oft the gnashing jaws     Of the fell crocodile are heard. At length,     By man's superior energy and toil,     The sunless brakes are cleared; the joyous morn     Shines through the opening leaves; rich culture smiles     Around; and howling to their distant wilds     The savage inmates of the wood retire.     Such is the scene of human life, till want     Bids man his strength put forth; then slowly spreads     The cultured stream of mild humanity,     And gentler virtues, and more noble aims     Employ the active mind, till beauty beams     Around, and Nature wears her richest robe,     Adorned with lovelier graces. Then the charms     Of woman, fairest of the works of Heaven,     Whom the cold savage, in his sullen pride,     Scorned as unworthy of his equal love,     With more attractive influence wins the heart     Of her protector. Then the names of sire,     Of home, of brother, and of children, grow     More sacred, more endearing; whilst the eye,     Lifted beyond this earthly scene, beholds     A Father who looks down from heaven on all!     O Britain, my loved country! dost thou rise     Most high among the nations! Do thy fleets     Ride o'er the surge of ocean, that subdued     Rolls in long sweep beneath them! Dost thou wear     Thy garb of gentler morals gracefully!     Is widest science thine, and the fair train     Of lovelier arts! While commerce throngs thy ports     With her ten thousand streamers, is the tract     Of the undeviating ploughshare white     That rips the reeking furrow, followed soon     By plenty, bidding all the scene rejoice,     Even like a cultured garden! Do the streams     That steal along thy peaceful vales, reflect     Temples, and Attic domes, and village towers!     Is beauty thine, fairest of earthly things,     Woman; and doth she gain that liberal love     And homage, which the meekness of her voice,     The rapture of her smile, commanding most     When she seems weakest, must demand from him,     Her master; whose stern strength at once submits     In manly, but endearing, confidence,     Unlike his selfish tyranny who sits     The sultan of his harem!         Oh, then, think     How great the blessing, and how high thy rank     Amid the civilised and social world!     But hast thou no deep failings, that may turn     Thy thoughts within thyself! Ask, for the sun     That shines in heaven hath seen it, hath thy power     Ne'er scattered sorrow over distant lands!     Ask of the East, have never thy proud sails     Borne plunder from dismembered provinces,     Leaving the groans of miserable men     Behind! And free thyself, and lifting high     The charter of thy freedom, bought with blood,     Hast thou not stood, in patient apathy,     A witness of the tortures and the chains     That Afric's injured sons have known! Stand up;     Yes, thou hast visited the caves, and cheered     The gloomy haunts of sorrow; thou hast shed     A beam of comfort and of righteousness     On isles remote; hast bid the bread-fruit shade     Th' Hesperian regions, and has softened much     With bland amelioration, and with charms     Of social sweetness, the hard lot of man.     But weighed in truth's firm balance, ask, if all     Be even. Do not crimes of ranker growth     Batten amid thy cities, whose loud din,     From flashing and contending cars, ascends,     Till morn! Enchanting, as if aught so sweet     Ne'er faded, do thy daughters wear the weeds     Of calm domestic peace and wedded love;     Or turn, with beautiful disdain, to dash     Gay pleasure's poisoned chalice from their lips     Untasted! Hath not sullen atheism,     Weaving gay flowers of poesy, so sought     To hide the darkness of his withered brow     With faded and fantastic gallantry     Of roses, thus to win the thoughtless smile     Of youthful ignorance! Hast thou with awe     Looked up to Him whose power is in the clouds,     Who bids the storm rush, and it sweeps to earth     The nations that offend, and they are gone,     Like Tyre and Babylon! Well weigh thyself:     Then shalt thou rise undaunted in the might     Of thy Protector, and the gathered hate     Of hostile bands shall be but as the sand     Blown on the everlasting pyramid.     Hasten, O Love and Charity! your work,     Ev'n now whilst it is day; far as the world     Extends may your divinest influence     Be felt, and more than felt, to teach mankind     They all are brothers, and to drown the cries     Of superstition, anarchy, or blood!     Not yet the hour is come: on Ganges' banks     Still superstition hails the flame of death,     Behold, gay dressed, as in her bridal tire,     The self-devoted beauteous victim slow     Ascend the pile where her dead husband lies:     She kisses his cold cheeks, inclines her breast     On his, and lights herself the fatal pile     That shall consume them both!         On Egypt's shore,     Where Science rose, now Sloth and Ignorance     Sleep like the huge Behemoth in the sun!     The turbaned Moor still stains with strangers' blood     The inmost sands of Afric. But all these     The light shall visit, and that vaster tract     From Fuego to the furthest Labrador,     Where roam the outcast Esquimaux, shall hear     The voice of social fellowship; the chief     Whose hatchet flashed amid the forest gloom,     Who to his infants bore the bleeding scalp     Of his fall'n foe, shall weep unwonted tears!     Come, Faith; come, Hope; come, meek-eyed Charity!     Complete the lovely prospect: every land     Shall lift up one hosannah; every tongue     Proclaim thee FATHER, INFINITE, and WISE,     And GOOD. The shores of palmy Senegal     (Sad Afric's injured sons no more enslaved)     Shall answer HALLELUJAH, for the LORD     Of truth and mercy reigns; reigns KING OF KINGS;     HOSANNAH, KING OF KINGS, and LORD OF LORDS!     So may His kingdom come, when all the earth,     Uniting thus as in one hymn of praise,     Shall wait the end of all things. This great globe,     His awful plan accomplished, then shall sink     In flames, whilst through the clouds, that wrap the place     Where it had rolled, and the sun shone, the voice     Of the ARCHANGEL, and the TRUMP OF GOD,     Amid heaven's darkness rolling fast away,     Shall sound!     Then shall the sea give up its dead;     But man's immortal mind, all trials past     That shook his feverish frame, amidst the scenes     Of peril and distemper, shall ascend     Exulting to its destined seat of rest,     And "justify His ways" from whom it sprung.