Thou art, at length, discovered to the eye
In crystal springs, that run, like silver thread,
From out their sandy heights, and glittering lie
Within a beauteous basin, fair outspread
Hesperian woodlands of the western sky,
As if, in Indian myths, a truth there could be read,
And these were tears, indeed, by fair Itasca shed.
II.
To bear the sword, on prancing steed arrayed;
To lift the voice admiring Senates own;