Steer on, bold sailor--Wit may mock thy soul that sees the land, <br />And hopeless at the helm may droop the weak and weary hand, <br />Yet ever--ever to the West, for there the coast must lie, <br />And dim it dawns, and glimmering dawns before thy reason's eye; <br />Yea, trust the guiding God--and go along the floating grave, <br />Though hid till now--yet now behold the New World o'er the wave! <br />With genius Nature ever stands in solemn union still, <br />And ever what the one foretells the other shall fulfil.<br /><br />Friedrich Schiller<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/columbus-2/
