IV.—Columbus arrives in Spain.
What veiléd glory, and what strange disguise,
We meet in by-ways of this wondrous earth!
How oft the “angel” to our scaléd eyes
Seems but a “stranger” guest of mortal birth!
Met with cold words, or, haply, careless mirth,
Known only when he’s passed into the skies.
Columbus asks for bread![[2]] None see the ties
Which link him to the future home and hearth
Of unborn millions. Thus, the glorious day