Herman Melville

“ Wakeful he bode. With throbbing brain
O'erwrought by travel, long he lay
In febrile musings, life's decay,
Begetting soon an ecstasy ⁠10
Wherein he saw arcade and fane
And people moving in the deep ”

“ Last, dearer than ereJason found,
A fleece--the Fleece upon a throne!
And a great voice he hears which saith,
Pain is no more, no more is death;
I wipe away all tears: Come, ye, ⁠30
Enter, it is eternity. ”