ambrosial mists that round it rise,
Dissolv'd and lost in dreams of Paradise!"
For there call'd forth, to bless a happier hour,
It met the sun in many a rainbow-shower!
Murmuring delight, its living waters roll'd
'Mid branching palms and amaranths of gold! [Footnote 5]

[Footnote 1: AEtas est illis aurea. Apertis vivunt hortis. P. Martyr,
dec. I. 3.]

[Footnote 2: The Parrot, as described by Aristotle. Hist. Animal,
viii. 12.]

[Footnote 3: The Humming-bird. Kakopit (florum regulus) is the name
of an Indian bird, referred to this class by Seba.]

[Footnote 4: Il sert apres sa mort aparer les jeunes Indiennes, qui
portent en pendans d'oreilles deux de ces charmans oiseaux. Buffon.]

[Footnote 5: According to an antient tradition. See Oviedo, Vega,
Herrera, &c. Not many years afterwards a Spaniard of distinction
wandered every where in search of it; and no wonder, as Robertson
observes, when Columbus himself could imagine that he had found the
seat of Paradise,]

CANTO XI.
Evening--a banquet--the ghost of Cazziva.

Her leaves at length the conscious tamarind clos'd,
And from wild sport the marmoset repos'd;
Fresh from the lake the breeze of twilight blew,
And vast and deep the mountain-shadows grew;
When many a fire-fly, shooting thro' the glade,
Spangled the locks of many a lovely maid,
Who now danc'd forth to strew His path with flowers.
And hymn His welcome to celestial bowers. [Footnote 1]
There od'rous lamps adorn'd the festal rite,
And guavas blush'd as in the vales of light, [Footnote 2]
--There silent sat many an unbidden Guest, [Footnote 3]
Whose stedfast looks a secret dread impress'd;
Not there forgot the sacred fruit that fed
At nightly feasts the Spirits of the Dead,
Mingling in scenes that mirth to mortals give,
Tho' by their sadness known from those that live.
There met, as erst, within the wonted grove,
Unmarried girls and youths that died for love!
Sons now beheld their antient sires again;
And sires, alas, their sons in battle slain!
But whence that sigh? 'Twas from a heart that broke!
And whence that voice? As from the grave it spoke!
And who, as unresolv'd the feast to share,
Sits half-withdrawn in faded splendour there?
'Tis he of yore, the warrior and the sage,
Whose lips have mov'd in prayer from age to age;
Whose eyes, that wander'd as in search before,
Now on COLUMBUS fix'd--to search no more!
CAZZIVA, [Footnote 4] gifted in his day to know
The gathering signs of a lo