The long-drawn veil e’en now is rent in twain!
Well may he enter in, with grateful prayer,
And bathe, as ’twere in a diviner air.
Well may the tears flow down—a blesséd rain!
And Spain’s broad banner proudly rise on high.
What scenes unknown—what beings from the sky,
May wait his coming, or his glory share,
And sing his praise in a celestial strain?
Methinks his soul might now depart in peace!
Well had it been had he then found release!