, the work of God--the SPIRITUAL UNITY
OF THE HUMAN RACE. This work, in which Columbus had so largely assisted,
was indeed too great to be worthily rewarded even by affixing his name
to the fourth continent. America bears not that name, but the human
race, drawn together and cemented by him, will spread his renown over
the whole earth.

THE PSALM OF THE WEST.

SIDNEY LANIER, an American poet of considerable talent. Born at
Macon, Ga., February 3, 1842; died at Lynn, N. C., September 8,
1881. From his "Psalm of the West."[45] Lanier was the author of
the "Centennial Ode."

Santa Maria, well thou tremblest down the wave,
Thy Pinta far abow, thy Nina nigh astern;
Columbus stands in the night alone, and, passing grave,
Yearns o'er the sea as tones o'er under-silence yearn.
Heartens his heart as friend befriends his friend less brave,
Makes burn the faiths that cool, and cools the doubts that burn.

"'Twixt this and dawn, three hours my soul will smite
With prickly seconds, or less tolerably
With dull-blade minutes flatwise slapping me.
Wait, heart! Time moves. Thou lithe young Western Night,
Just-crowned King, slow riding to thy right,
Would God that I might straddle mutiny
Calm as thou sitt'st yon never-managed sea,
Balk'st with his balking, fliest with his flight,
Giv'st supple to his rearings and his falls,
Nor dropp'st one coronal star about thy brow,
Whilst ever dayward thou art steadfast drawn
Yea, would I rode these mad contentious brawls,
No damage taking from their If and How,
Nor no result save galloping to my Dawn.

"My Dawn? my Dawn? How if it never break?
How if this West by other Wests is pierced.
And these by vacant Wests and Wests increased--
One pain of space, with hollow ache on ache,
Throbbing and ceasing not for Christ's own sake?
Big, perilous theorem, hard for king and priest;
'Pursue the West but long enough, 'tis East!'
Oh, if this watery world no turning take;
Oh, if for all my logic, all my dreams,
Provings of that which is by that which seems,
Fears, hopes, chills, heats, hastes, patiences, droughts, tears,
Wife-grievings, slights on love, embezzled years,
Hates, treaties, scorns, upliftings, loss, and gain,
This earth, no sphere, be all one sickening plain.

"Or, haply, how if this contrarious West,
That me by turns hath starved, by turns hath fed,