His iron-gauntlet and,—with hearty grasp embrac’d,—
Each long, long, sever’d hand
Its friend-foe hails, steadfast as mountain-bases stand!
“And as th’ last deep accents
Of reconcilement and of blessing sounded;
Lo! Ing’borg sudden enters, rich adorn’d
With bridal ornaments, and all enrob’d
In gorgeous ermine, and by bright-ey’d maidens
Slow-follow’d, as on heav’n’s broad canopy,
Attending star-trains guard the regent-moon!—