Nor did the Moors perceive in what a strait
They enter’d; for the morn had risen o’ercast,
And when the Sun had reach’d the height of heaven,
Dimly his pale and beamless orb was seen
Moving through mist. A soft and gentle rain,
Scarce heavier than the summer’s evening dew,
Descended, ... through so still an atmosphere,
That every leaf upon the moveless trees
Was studded o’er with rain-drops, bright and full,
None falling till from its own weight o’erswoln