And you and I may chance, ere morning rise,
To fin our way to Marmora without boats,
Stitch'd up in sacks—a mode of navigation
A good deal practised here upon occasion.'
With this encouragement, he led the way
Into a room still nobler than the last;
A rich confusion form'd a disarray
In such sort, that the eye along it cast
Could hardly carry anything away,
Object on object flash' so bright and fast;
A dazzling mass of gems, and gold, and glitter,