Who oft the waves of error did dispart,
And gasped for breath amid those shades of night,
Now with the aim unerring of a dart
Strikes for the pearl, bright gleaming to his eyes—
What mortal man e’er brought up such a prize!
VIII.—The Discovery.
The morning dawns, and to th’ enraptured eye
Appears a land, glorious beyond compare,
Save that the dreamer saw in vision fair,
When to the Holy City he drew nigh.