Eternal goal! Whitherward rush, in thousand worlds, ten thousand
thousand keels! Beacon, by which the universe is steered!--Like the
north-star, attracting all needles! Unattainable forever; but forever
leading to great things this side thyself!--Hive of all sunsets!--
Gabriel's pinions may not overtake thee!

Over balmy waves, still westward sailing! From dawn till eve, the
bright, bright days sped on, chased by the gloomy nights; and, in
glory dying, lent their luster to the starry skies. So, long the
radiant dolphins fly before the sable sharks but seized, and torn in
flames--die, burning:--their last splendor left, in sparkling scales
that float along the sea.

Cymbals, drums and psalteries! the air beats like a pulse with music!
--High land! high land! and moving lights, and painted lanterns!--What
grand shore is this?

"Reverence we render thee, Old Orienda!" cried Media, with bared brow,
"Original of all empires and emperors!--a crowned king salutes thee!"

"Mardi's father-land!" cried Mohi, "grandsire of the nations,--hail!"

"All hail!" cried Yoomy. "Kings and sages hither coming, should come
like palmers,--scrip and staff! Oh Orienda! thou wert our East, where
first dawned song and science, with Mardi's primal mornings! But now,
how changed! the dawn of light become a darkness, which we kindle with
the gleam of spears! On the world's ancestral hearth, we spill our
brothers' blood!"

"Herein," said Babbalanja, "have many distant tribes proved