Classic Poem

In mid Atlantic are its mazes spread,
Wide as the basin of our kingly stream;
Barred of all hope that hitherward has led,
Do vessels snared within its meshes seem.
Columbus, first to thread this weedy sea,
Thought he had reached here navigation's bound,
But pushing boldly on till all was free,
At last the longed-for, unknown land was found.
In life's mid-ocean heaves a sea of Doubt:—
Wise are the souls that past it learn to steer;
Yet tangled there, who toiling struggle out,
Finding once more the ocean pathway clear,
Look back in triumph on Sargasso passed,
And, though belated, reach the Land at last.