The morning dawns, and to th’ enraptured eye Appears a land, glorious beyond compare, Save that the dreamer saw in vision fair, When to the Holy City he drew nigh. The long-drawn veil e’en now is rent in twain! Well may he enter in, with grateful prayer, And bathe, as ’twere in a diviner air. Well may the tears flow down—a blesséd rain! And Spain’s broad banner proudly rise on high. What scenes unknown—what beings from the sky, May wait his coming, or his glory share, And sing his praise in a celestial strain? Methinks his soul might now depart in peace! Well had it been had he then found release! IX.—THE RETURN TO SPAIN. Joy! for the Victor cometh! He hath won A prouder triumph than the great of eld; The tempest-tossed, within whose bosom swelled Bright hopes, that changed to fears, now sees the sun Shine on the fair and fertile land of Spain, Which hails his name with proud enraptured strain. All press to gaze on th’ anointed one, Whom the Most High within his hand has held— While peals again the long and loud refrain; And for “Castile and Leon’s” chosen son, A full-orbed glory shineth in the West. Oh! if Life’s sands e’en then had ceased to run, Bright visions of those “islands of the blest” Had soothed him to his last and dreamless rest. X.—COLUMBUS IN CHAINS. In chains! in chains! homeward once more he came! Life’s sky is veiled in midnight drear and dark;— And this is his reward! They leave no mark Those shameless fetters on his own fair fame. The shaft may pierce his soul, but yet no shame Bows that proud head; he is the victor still; He triumphs in a stern, unconquered will. His ’scutcheon fair was dimmed by breath of blame; The stain is washed away by woman’s tears; His patron-queen forbids his anxious fears— Her gracious sweetness brings him to the dust. The pledge of royal favor now he hears.— But, oh! too long it waited—_to be just_; While care and grief led on the lingering years. XI.—COLUMBUS PROPOSES A NEW CRUSADE.