William Preston Johnston - Columbus I lyrics

WHAT seer can tell where mighty thoughts are born, Or whence they come to men? The humble cot, By which the proud pa** with a glance of scorn, In after days becomes a hallowed spot Where pilgrim feet resort. The Fates allot Unto Porphyrogene oblivion's pall; Imperial grandeur is right soon forgot; The grave's black bondage makes of wealth its thrall. Columbus nurtured near the weaver's beam, Where a sad sire the frequent shuttle threw, Saw floods of light upon his spirit stream And from Heaven's fountains living waters drew. Through work and zeal the vision large unfurled That gave mankind and him a second world.