Long from the stern the great Adventurer gaz’d
With awe not fear; then high his hands he rais’d. 
“Thou All-supreme—–­in goodness as in power,
Who, from his birth to this eventful hour,
Hast led thy servant [Footnote 3] over land and sea,
Confessing Thee in all, and all in Thee,
Oh still”—­He spoke, and lo, the charm accurst
Fled whence it came, and the broad barrier burst! 
A vain illusion! (such as mocks the eyes
Of fearful men, when mountains round them rise
From less than nothing [Footnote 4]) nothing now beheld,
But scatter’d sedge—­repelling, and repell’d! 
   And once again that valiant company
Right onward came, ploughing the Unknown Sea. 
Already borne beyond the range of thought,
With Light divine, with Truth immortal fraught,
From world to world their steady course they keep, [Footnote 5]
Swift as the winds along the waters sweep,
Mid the mute nations of the purple deep. 
—­And now the sound of harpy-wings they hear;
Now less and less, as vanishing in fear! 
And, see, the heav’ns bow down, the waters rise. 
And, rising, shoot in columns to the skies, [Footnote 6]
That stand—­and still, when they proceed, retire,
As in the Desert burn’d the sacred fire; [Footnote 7]
Moving in silent majesty, till Night
Descends, and shuts the vision from their sight.

[Footnote 1:  In like manner the companions of Ulysses utter their thoughts without reserve.  Od.  X.]

[Footnote 2:  The author seems to have anticipated his long slumber in the library of the Fathers.]

[Footnote 3:  ’They may give me what name they please.  I am servant of Him, &c.’  F. Columbus, c 2.]

[Footnote 4:  Isaiah xl. 17.]

[Footnote 5:  As St. Christopher carried Christ over the deep waters, so Columbus went over safe, himself and his company.—­F.  Col. c. 1.]

[Footnote 6:  Water-spouts.  See Edwards’s Hist. of the West Indies.  I. 12.  Note.]

[Footnote 7:  Exod. xiii. 21.]

CANTO III. 
An Assembly of Evil Spirits.

Tho’ chang’d my cloth of gold for amice grey—­ [n]
In my spring-time, when every month was May,
With hawk and hound I cours’d away the hour,
Or sung my roundelay in lady’s bower. 
And tho’ my world be now a narrow cell,
(Renounc’d for ever all I lov’d so well)
Tho’ now my head be bald, my feet be bare,
And scarce my knees sustain my book of prayer,
Oh I was there, one of that gallant crew,
And saw—­and wonder’d whence his Power He drew,
Yet little thought, tho’ by his side I stood,
Of his great Foes in earth and air and flood,
Then uninstructed.—­But my sand is run,
And the Night coming—–­and my Task not done!—­
’Twas in the deep, immeasurable cave
Of ANDES, echoing to the Southern wave, [o]
Mid pillars of Basalt, the work of fire,
That, giant-like, to upper day aspire,
’Twas there that now, as wont in heav’n