Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.
The Fountain of Youth
By Hezekiah Butterworth (1839–1905)A voyager, withered and old,
Who came to the sunny Antilles,
In quest of a country of gold.
He was wafted past islands of spices,
As bright as the Emerald seas,
Where all the forests seem singing,
So thick were the birds on the trees;
The sea was as clear as the azure,
And so deep and so pure was the sky
That the jasper-walled city seemed shining
Just out of the reach of the eye.
By day his light canvas he shifted,
And rounded strange harbors and bars;
By night, on the full tides he drifted,
’Neath the low-hanging lamps of the stars.
Near the glimmering gates of the sunset,
In the twilight empurpled and dim,
The sailors uplifted their voices,
And sang to the Virgin a hymn.
“Thank the Lord!” said De Leon, the sailor,
At the close of the rounded refrain;
“Thank the Lord, the Almighty, who blesses
The ocean-swept banner of Spain!
The shadowy world is behind us,
The shining Cipango, before;
Each morning the sun rises brighter
On ocean, and island, and shore.
And still shall our spirits grow lighter,
As prospects more glowing enfold;
Then on, merry men! to Cipango,
To the west, and the regions of gold.”
Some Indian sages, who told
Of a region so bright that the waters
Were sprinkled with islands of gold.
And they added: “The leafy Bimini,
A fair land of grottos and bowers,
Is there; and a wonderful fountain
Upsprings from its gardens of flowers.
That fountain gives life to the dying,
And youth to the aged restores;
They flourish in beauty eternal,
Who set but their foot on its shores!”
Then answered De Leon, the sailor:
“I am withered, and wrinkled, and old;
I would rather discover that fountain,
Than a country of diamonds and gold.”
Away with a wonderful glee,
Till the birds were more rare in the azure,
The dolphins more rare in the sea.
Away from the shady Bahamas,
Over waters no sailor had seen,
Till again on his wondering vision,
Rose clustering islands of green.
Still onward he sped till the breezes
Were laden with odors, and lo!
A country embedded with flowers,
A country with rivers aglow!
More bright than the sunny Antilles,
More fair than the shady Azores.
“Thank the Lord!” said De Leon, the sailor,
As feasted his eye on the shores,
“We have come to a region, my brothers,
More lovely than earth, of a truth;
And here is the life-giving fountain,—
The beautiful fountain of youth.”
Unfurled his old banner, and sung;
But he felt very wrinkled and withered,
All around was so fresh and so young.
The palms, ever-verdant, were blooming,
Their blossoms e’en margined the seas;
O’er the streams of the forests bright flowers
Hung deep from the branches of trees.
“Praise the Lord!” sung De Leon, the sailor;
His heart was with rapture aflame;
And he said: “Be the name of this region
By Florida given to fame.
’T is a fair, a delectable country,
More lovely than earth, of a truth;
I soon shall partake of the fountain,—
The beautiful fountain of youth!”
In search of that fountain in vain;
No waters were there to restore him
To freshness and beauty again.
And his anchor he lifted, and murmured,
As the tears gathered fast in his eye,
“I must leave this fair land of the flowers,
Go back o’er the ocean, and die.”
Then back by the dreary Tortugas,
And back by the shady Azores,
He was borne on the storm-smitten waters
To the calm of his own native shores.
And that he grew older and older,
His footsteps enfeebled gave proof,
Still he thirsted in dreams for the fountain,
The beautiful fountain of youth.
On the shores of a tropical isle,
And his heart was enkindled with rapture,
And his face lighted up with a smile.
He thought of the sunny Antilles,
He thought of the shady Azores,
He thought of the dreamy Bahamas,
He thought of fair Florida’s shores.
And, when in his mind he passed over
His wonderful travels of old,
He thought of the heavenly country,
Of the city of jasper and gold.
“Thank the Lord!” said De Leon, the sailor,
“Thank the Lord for the light of the truth,
I now am approaching the fountain,
The beautiful Fountain of Youth.”
They heard the birds singing a psalm,
And the wind of the ocean low sighing
Through groves of the orange and palm.
The sailor still lay on his pallet,
’Neath the low-hanging vines of the roof;
His soul had gone forth to discover
The beautiful Fountain of Youth.