Columbian Ode

Four hundred years ago a tangled wasteLay sleeping on the west Atlantic's side;Their devious ways the Old World's millions tracedContent, and loved, and labored, dared and died,While students still believed the charts they conned,And revelled in their thriftless ignorance,Nor dreamed of other lands that lay beyondOld Ocean's dense, indefinite expanse.

But deep within her heart old Nature knewThat she had once arrayed, at Earth's behest,Another offspring, fine and fair to view,--The chosen suckling of the mother's breast.The child was wrapped in vestments soft and fine,Each fold a work of Nature's matchless art;The mother looked on it with love divine,And strained the loved one closely to her heart.And there it lay, and with the warmth grew strongAnd hearty, by the salt sea breezes fanned,Till Time with mellowing touches passed along,And changed the infant to a mighty land.

But men knew naught of this, till there aroseThat mighty mariner, the Genoese,Who dared to try, in spite of fears and foes,The unknown fortunes of unsounded seas.O noblest of Italia's sons, thy barkWent not alone into that shrouding night!O dauntless darer of the rayless dark,The world sailed with thee to eternal light!The deer-haunts that with game were crowded thenTo-day are tilled and cultivated lands;The schoolhouse tow'rs where Bruin had his den,And where the wigwam stood the chapel stands;The place that nurtured men of savage mienNow teems with men of Nature's noblest types;Where moved the forest-foliage banner green,Now flutters in the breeze the stars and stripes!