PICTURE XI.

This persevering man succeeds at last!

The last gazette has publish'd to the world

That Ferdinand and Isabella grant

Three well rigg'd ships to Christopher Columbus;

And have bestow'd the noble titles too

Of Admiral and Vice-Roy — great indeed!—

Who will not now project, and scrawl on paper —

Pretenders now shall be advanc'd to honour;

And every pedant that can frame a problem,

And every lad that can draw parallels

Or measure the subtension of an angle,

Shall now have ships to make discoveries.

This simple man would sail he knows not where;

Building on fables, schemes of certainty;—

Visions of Plato, mix'd with idle tales

Of later date, intoxicate his brain:

Let him advance beyond a certain point

In his fantastic voyage, and I foretell

He never can return: ay, let him go!—

There is a line towards the setting sun

Drawn on an ocean of tremendous depth,

( Where nature plac'd the limits of the day )

Haunted by dragons, fond of solitude,

Red serpents, fiery forms, and yelling hags,

Fit company for mad adventurers.—

There, when the sun descends,‘ tis horror all;

His angry globe through vast abysses gliding

Burns in the briny bosom of the deep

Making a havoc so detestable,

And causing such a wasteful ebullition

That never island green, or continent

Could find foundation, there to grow upon.