Excerpt from Georges, or the Isle of France

We are at the Cape of Storms. Do you see that mountain emerging from the haze? It is the same giant Adamastor which appeared to the author of the Lusiad.' We are passing the extremity of the earth yonder jutting promontory is the prow of the world. See how the ocean breaks against it, furious but powerless; that good ship fears not its tempests, for its sails are set for the harbour of eternity, it has God Himself for pilot. Pass on, for beyond those verdant mountains we shall find barren tracts and sun-scorched deserts. Pass on, I have promised you clear water and sweet shade, fruits ever ripening and everlasting flowers.

Hail to the Indian Ocean! Where the west wind urges us along; hail to the scene of the Thousand and One Nights'

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