The warrior King the Moors assailed,
And fields were lost and won-
Still, still, Columbus urged his suit-
Long years had come and gone.

From Seville proud-impatiently-
Then rose that mariner-
And sought again La Rab'da's dome,
And would again confer,

With Friar Juan Perez, good

Then spoke that friend so true, (Who ever clung to him in need, Whatever might ensue :)

"My mule, sure-footed, will I mountI'll haste to Santa Fe

And there will urge our gracious Queen,
As earnest as may be."t

The Friar's mule was saddled soon,
And soon to Santa Fe

He hasted-his discerning mind,
How well could it foresee!

Queen Isabella's bosom fired,
As forcibly he spoke-
She listed well his earnest words,
And thus her silence broke:

"Oh! Father Juan Perez, good, My thanks are due to thee, For back recalling Colon bold, For us to cross the sea:

Then bear thy friend this golden store,
And prithee from me say,
That I enjoin, to Santa Fe

He hie, without delay."

Columbus, whom these tidings cheered,
Made haste to Santa Fe-
And there a splendid, mournful sight,
His hap it was to see.

He marked the last of Moorish Kings
His keys surrender o'er

To the King of Spain-and leave for aye
Whate'er he'd known before.

For old Granada gained, I ween,
Spain held a jubilee,

The while Columbus mused in thought,
Upon the Western sea.

When soon the King and Queen he sought,
And prayed at once they'd keep
Their vow, to yield him outfit good
To course the unknown deep.

"And grant," said he, "thou sov'reigns great,

That Admiral I shall be,
Where'er shall sail your goodly ships,
Upon that distant sea.

And"-here his lust'rous falcon eye
Emitted many a spark-

Majestic grew his tow'ring form-
And-oh! ye sov'reigns, hark!

I claim that Viceroy I may reign
O'er all the realms I gain-
Indeed, unless my hest you grant,
I may not cross that main."

Thus Ferdinand and Isabel

In haste the conference brokeSuch princely meed that he'd demand, Astonishment awoke.

Soon rode the long enduring one
From that encampment grand,
And thought forever then to leave
That King and Queen, and land.

But when he'd reached to Pinos bridge,
A space there halted he,

To gaze upon that scene sublime,
He never more should see.

For e'er he loved the beautiful,
Poetic, true and grand-
Such feelings had he not have nursed
He ne'er had dreamed this land.

Two friends had Colon left at court, As faithful as might beComptroller one, of Castile's wealthBoth courtiers of degree.

To Isabella's feet they flew,

"Oh! mistress dear," quoth they, "We fear us much, that Colon proud, Will cross to France away.

So well he'll paint his brilliant thought-
So well the French King urge-
That for that crown, and lost to Spain's,
Will those new realms emerge.'

The graceful Spanish Queen reclined
'Gainst crimson cushions there-
Now deeply flushed her lovely cheek,
Beneath her auburn hair.

Her hands so white, she clasped, and cried,
As flashed her bright blue eye-
"Great Colon! no-he must not part,
Although his claims be high.

I know Granada's war hath drained
Our coffers of their gold,
But I will pledge my jewels rare,
To fit that seaman bold:

Go! haste! a courier dispatch T'acquaint him with our view:" Thus God our navigator sped,

As e'er he doth the true.

The courier reached at Pinos' bridge
Columbus taking rest,

Who gladly turned him back again
At Isabel's behest.

By one bright act, that lovely queen Did patroness become

Of all our glorious western world,-
Our free and happy home.

And now with Colon, king and queen
Had solemn contract made;
It promised him three goodly ships,
And every needful aid,

To fit him for his great design

In leaving Palos' port;
And there commanded seamen true
Would presently resort.

How glowed the navigator's heart,
And flashed his falcon eye,
When at La Rabida's old gate
He lighted happily.

The Friar, Juan Perez, good,

To whom he owed a debt,
All joyfully embraced him there,
The true and brave were met.

These friends, in little time they hied
To Palos' town, so near,
For caravels, and seamen read
That order-ALL must hear.

Oh! what a tremulous affright
Assailed the hearts of all;
The bravest quailed beneath the thought-
They'd none attend the call,

To venture o'er a deep unknown,

Where ship ne'er sailed before; To fight, mayhap, with monsters strange— Be drawn by Mermen o'er,

Down, down beneath those billows dread,

Far, far from all so dear;
The boldest sailors of them all,
They quaked for very fear.

Till Martin Alonzo Pinzon, good,
A mariner there of name,

Two ships declared he'd join them with,
And sail in one for fame.

There was a third, with all its crew,
By royal mandate, pressed,
And oft in sailing o'er the sea,
That crew it caused unrest.

The Nina and the Pinta, ships
The Penson's held in hand;
The Santa Maria, the full-decked,
Columbus should command.

Now Colon dreamed the eastern coast

Of India he'd explore

Of the world between, oh! had he known! Unheard of, e'er before.

At last the fatal day arrived

When sail they must, far o'er,
And o'er a trackless deep abyss-
Perhaps return no more.

Then Friar Juan, friend in need,
Columbus knelt before-
Confessed himself of all his sins,
That priest he blessed him o'er.

The sacred unction, last received
By him, and all his crew-
They hoisted flags, and strove to man
For the last sad interview.

Amid the tears, and shrieks, and prayers
Of wives and friends so true,
The ships thus doomed unfurled their sails,
And vanished slow from view.

Dark gloom o'er Palos' port was spread,
Its townsmen long did gaze
At little,-less'ning, deeming specks,
Then all was lost in haze.

On Friday, then, of August third,
In fourteen ninety-two,
That little fleet from Spain did part,
And vanish thus from view.

Canary Isles the squadron gained,
And rested there a space;
When sailing west, Isle Ferro's height
The men no more could trace.

They loudly mourned their cruel fate;
Rough seamen shedding tears
At venturing o'er that mystic deep,
That chaos to their fears.

But on, and on, Columbus steered-
Away, away, steered he,

Where ne'er a ship was steered before,-
Oh! a vent'rous soul was he.

Then soon came winging over head,

A tropic bird, so white,

To joyous sailor's eyes it dawned
A spirit of delight.

Columbus knew 'twas of a kind
That slept not on the sea,
And from its visit throbbed his heart
With many a sweet augury.

And now they hoped to near a land-
Alas! no land they gain-
Columbus dared not speak the leagues
They'd held away from Spain.

Though stout his men, they grew afraid-
Those eastern winds e'er blew,

As if to waft them OFF the west,

Poor miserable crew!

Oh! then a western wind there blew ; They happy were again;

And fresh hopes had to steer them back,
One lucky day, to Spain.

Sweet flocks of little orchard birds
Came singing in the morn;

And till the evening, cheered with lays
Those sailors, so forlorn.

But now there fell a sudden calm,
O'er all that stranger sea;

They'd rest them there, the sailors thought,
Till death should set them free.

Columbus reasoned, threatened-vain-
They'd not his will await;
Then, suddenly, a gust of wind
Relieved him from his strait.

And now Columbus changed his course To meet the Pinzon's view;

On, on they steered, no land they neared, They knew not what to do.

Then thought that crew of mutiny-
Why were they bound for him,
A foreign rash adventurer,

To peril life and limb.

The voice so gruff, of seamen prest, Low whispered-" Let me creep Upon him with my sharp steel dirk, And stab him in his sleep:

We'll say, engrossed with the Astrolabe
And watching stars, he fell

Down, down within the deep abyss,
And we, returned to tell."