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The moon, that thro' the portal shone.

The crosiered Abbot ; and the Knight
In harness for the Christian fight,
His hands in supplication joined ;-
Then said as in a solemn mood,
“Now stand we where COLUMBUS stood !"

'ta Blancard Philadelphia,

The moon, that thro' the portal shone,
Shone on his reverend head.
Thro' many a court and gallery dim
Slowly he led, the burial-hymn
Swelling from the distant choir.
But now the holy men retire;
The arched cloisters issuing thro',
In long, long order, two and two.

When other sounds had died away,
And the waves were heard alone,
They entered, tho' unused to pray,
Where God was worshipped, night and day,
And the dead knelt round in stone ;
They entered, and from aisle to aisle
Wandered with folded arms awhile,
Where on his altar-tomb reclined
The crosiered Abbot ; and the Knight
In harness for the Christian fight,
His hands in supplication joined ;-
Then said as in a solemn mood,

Now stand we where COLUMBUS stood !"

“ Perez,* thou good old man,” they cried, “ And art thou in thy place of rest ?Tho' in the western world His grave,f That other world, the gift He gave, Would ye were sleeping side by side! Of all his friends He loved thee best.”

The supper in the chamber done,
Much of a Southern Sea they spake,
And of that glorious cityß won
Near the setting of the Sun,
Throned in a silver lake;
Of seven kings in chains of gold||
And deeds of death by tongue untold,
Deeds such as breathed in secret there

Had shaken the Confession-chair!

* Late Superior of the House.
+ In the chancel of the cathedral of St. Domingo.

| The words of the epitaph. “A Castilia y a Leon nuevo Mundo dio Colon."

$ Mexico.
|| Afterwards the arms of Cortes and his descendants.

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