Of the Alhambra hymns of praise and trust
Ascend to Heaven. On the glad ear there falls
A mighty shout of triumph. Each one calls
“Rejoice! the Cross hath conquered—ever just!”
Who cometh ’mid the throng? One who hath learned
To hope, when hope hath died within the breast;
Fainting, to hold right on, though scoffed and spurned—
Amid that jubilation he is blest.
Man’s eyes are holden, but proud Woman’s name
From that good hour shares the Discoverer’s fame.