y day,
      My men grow ghastly wan, and weak.”
    The stout mate thought of home; a spray
      Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
    “What shall I say, brave Admiral, say,
      If we sight naught but seas at dawn?”
    “Why, you may say, at break of day,
      ‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!’”

    They sailed and sailed as winds might blow,
      Until at last the blanched mate said:
    “Why, now not even God would know
      Should I and all my men fall dead.
    These very winds forget their way,
      For God from these dread seas is gone.
    Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say--”
      He said, “Sail on! sail on! and on!”

[Illustration: CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS]

    They sailed. They sailed. Then spoke the mate:
      “This mad sea shows his teeth to-night;
    He curls his lips, he lies in wait
      With lifted teeth as if to bite;
    Brave Admiral, say but one good word,
      What shall we do when hope is gone?”
    The words leaped like a leaping sword,
      “Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!”

    Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck,
      And peered through darkness. Ah, that night
    Of all dark nights! and then a speck,
      “A light! A light! A light! A light!”
    It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!
      It grew to be Time’s burst of dawn.
    He gained a world; he gave that world
      Its grandest lesson: “On! sail on!”
         --JOAQUIN MILLER.




        OPPORTUNITY


    This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:--
    There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;
    And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
    A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
    Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince’s banner
    Wavered, then staggered backwards, hemmed by foes.
    A craven hung along the battle’s edge,
    And thought, “Had I a sword of keener steel--
    That blue blade that the king’s son bears,--but this
    Blunt thing--!” he snapt and flung it from his hand,
    And lowering crept away and left the field.
    Th