Joaquin Miller

Columbus

Columbus.
We are greatly indebted to Joaquin Miller for his "Sail On! Sail On!" Endurance is the watchword of the poem and the watchword of our republic. Every man to his gun! Columbus discovered America in his own mind before he realised it or proved its existence. I have often drawn a chart of Columbus's life and voyages to show what need he had of the motto "Sail On!" to accomplish his end. This is one of our greatest American poems. The writer still lives in California.
Behind him lay the gray Azores,

Gates of Hercules

The Strait of Gibraltar—the western edge of the known world in 1492. Everything beyond was uncharted Atlantic.

Behind the gates of Hercules;
Before him not the ghost of shores,
Before him only shoreless seas.
The good mate said: "Now must we pray,
For lo! the very stars are gone;

Stars are gone

Without stars, no navigation. The mate is saying they're lost—celestial navigation was the only way to find position at sea.

Speak, Admiral, what shall I say?"
"Why say, sail on! and on!"
"My men grow mut'nous day by day;
My men grow ghastly wan and weak."
The stout mate thought of home; a spray
Of salt wave wash'd his swarthy cheek.
"What shall I say, brave Admiral,
If we sight naught but seas at dawn?"
"Why, you shall say, at break of day:
'Sail on! sail on! and on!'"
They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow,

Blanch'd mate

He's gone white with fear. This is the third time the mate speaks—watch how his terror escalates with each stanza.

Until at last the blanch'd mate said;
"Why, now, not even God would know
Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget their way,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak, brave Admiral, and say——"
He said: "Sail on! and on!"
They sailed, they sailed, then spoke his mate:
"This mad sea shows his teeth to-night,

Mad sea shows his teeth

The ocean personified as a predator. Notice how the mate's language gets more desperate—from prayer to theological despair to this animal fear.

He curls his lip, he lies in wait,
With lifted teeth as if to bite!
Brave Admiral, say but one word;
What shall we do when hope is gone?"
The words leaped as a leaping sword:
"Sail on! sail on! and on!"
Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck,
And thro' the darkness peered that night
Ah, darkest night! and then a speck—

A light! a light!

The famous lantern on shore—first sign of land after 33 days crossing the Atlantic. The quadruple repetition mimics the lookout's cry.

A light! a light! a light! a light!
It grew—a star-lit flag unfurled!

Star-lit flag unfurled

Anachronistic—Columbus sailed under Spanish banners, not the American flag. Miller is making this about American perseverance, not historical Spain.

It grew to be Time's burst of dawn;
He gained a world! he gave that world
Its watch- word: "On! and on!"
Joaquin Miller.
Source Wikipedia Poetry Foundation

Reading Notes

The Mate as Everyman

Miller structures this as a dialogue poem—Columbus speaks only one phrase ("Sail on!"), while the mate voices every human doubt. This isn't really about the historical voyage; it's a psychological study of endurance versus despair.

Watch the mate's progression across four speeches. First stanza: practical worry about navigation. Second: concern for the crew's physical state. Third: theological crisis—"not even God would know / Should I and all my men fall dead." He's moved from technical problems to existential terror. Fourth: the ocean becomes a monster with teeth. Each speech escalates the stakes, and Columbus answers with identical words.

The repetition of "Sail on! and on!" is the poem's engine. It never varies, never argues, never explains. Miller understood that endurance isn't about having better reasons—it's about having one reason and refusing to abandon it. The mate uses 92 words across his speeches; Columbus uses 24, mostly the same three. That asymmetry is the point.

Why Miller Wrote This in 1896

Joaquin Miller (born Cincinnatus Hiner Miller) was California's self-invented frontier poet—he wore sombrero and boots to London literary salons and claimed to have lived with Digger Indians. By the 1890s, America was in economic depression, and the frontier was officially closed. This poem is Gilded Age motivational literature.

The prefatory note (likely Miller's own) says "Endurance is the watchword of our republic" and "Every man to his gun!"—martial language for an industrial age. Miller wants Columbus as an American archetype, which is why that "star-lit flag" appears despite being historically impossible. He's not writing about 1492; he's writing about manifest destiny and American exceptionalism.

Notice what Miller omits: the Spanish crown, the search for Indies trade routes, the Taíno people who actually lived where Columbus landed. The poem ends with "he gave that world / Its watch-word"—as if the Americas were empty until Columbus brought them American persistence. This is mythology dressed as history, powerful as poetry but revealing in what it erases.