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1. BOOK XXVII
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1.1. Prayer of Columbus
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0
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A batter'd, wreck'd old man,
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1
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Thrown on this savage shore, far, far from home,
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2
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Pent by the sea and dark rebellious brows, twelve dreary months,
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3
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Sore, stiff with many toils, sicken'd and nigh to death,
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4
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I take my way along the island's edge,
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5
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Venting a heavy heart.
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6
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I am too full of woe!
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7
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Haply I may not live another day;
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8
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I cannot rest O God, I cannot eat or drink or sleep,
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9
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Till I put forth myself, my prayer, once more to Thee,
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10
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Breathe, bathe myself once more in Thee, commune with Thee,
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11
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Report myself once more to Thee.
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12
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Thou knowest my years entire, my life,
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13
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My long and crowded life of active work, not adoration merely;
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14
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Thou knowest the prayers and vigils of my youth,
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15
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Thou knowest my manhood's solemn and visionary meditations,
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16
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Thou knowest how before I commenced I devoted all to come to Thee,
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17
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Thou knowest I have in age ratified all those vows and strictly kept them,
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18
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Thou knowest I have not once lost nor faith nor ecstasy in Thee,
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19
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In shackles, prison'd, in disgrace, repining not,
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Accepting all from Thee, as duly come from Thee.
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21
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All my emprises have been fill'd with Thee,
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22
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My speculations, plans, begun and carried on in thoughts of Thee,
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23
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Sailing the deep or journeying the land for Thee;
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24
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Intentions, purports, aspirations mine, leaving results to Thee.
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O I am sure they really came from Thee,
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26
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The urge, the ardor, the unconquerable will,
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27
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The potent, felt, interior command, stronger than words,
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28
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A message from the Heavens whispering to me even in sleep,
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29
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These sped me on.
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30
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By me and these the work so far accomplish'd,
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31
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By me earth's elder cloy'd and stifled lands uncloy'd, unloos'd,
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32
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By me the hemispheres rounded and tied, the unknown to the known.
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33
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The end I know not, it is all in Thee,
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34
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Or small or great I know not—haply what broad fields, what lands,
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35
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Haply the brutish measureless human undergrowth I know,
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36
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Transplanted there may rise to stature, knowledge worthy Thee,
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37
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Haply the swords I know may there indeed be turn'd to reaping-tools,
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38
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Haply the lifeless cross I know, Europe's dead cross, may bud and
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39
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blossom there.
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One effort more, my altar this bleak sand;
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41
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That Thou O God my life hast lighted,
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42
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With ray of light, steady, ineffable, vouchsafed of Thee,
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43
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Light rare untellable, lighting the very light,
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Beyond all signs, descriptions, languages;
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For that O God, be it my latest word, here on my knees,
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46
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Old, poor, and paralyzed, I thank Thee.
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47
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My terminus near,
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48
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The clouds already closing in upon me,
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49
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The voyage balk'd, the course disputed, lost,
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50
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I yield my ships to Thee.
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51
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My hands, my limbs grow nerveless,
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52
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My brain feels rack'd, bewilder'd,
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53
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Let the old timbers part, I will not part,
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54
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I will cling fast to Thee, O God, though the waves buffet me,
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55
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Thee, Thee at least I know.
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56
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Is it the prophet's thought I speak, or am I raving?
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57
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What do I know of life? what of myself?
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58
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I know not even my own work past or present,
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59
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Dim ever-shifting guesses of it spread before me,
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60
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Of newer better worlds, their mighty parturition,
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61
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Mocking, perplexing me.
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62
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And these things I see suddenly, what mean they?
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63
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As if some miracle, some hand divine unseal'd my eyes,
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64
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Shadowy vast shapes smile through the air and sky,
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65
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And on the distant waves sail countless ships,
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