Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/271

Rh How many a soft and balmy eve, In pleasant converse there, Have I with Seville's mirthful sons, And Seville's daughters fair, Traversed those blooming bowers along, On entering which are rude Gigantic shapes in myrtles cut, Of various attitude; And rose-bay trees, in long arcades, With oranges unite, And shady labyrinths form, the which To thefts of love invite; And hidden jets of water spring All sudden from the floor, When trod the painted pebbles laid In rich mosaic o'er, That sprinkle on the stranger there, While shouts of laughter rise, From those who warn'd by former fate Now shun such pleasantries!

In summer time, at close of day, When mid the light cloud's fold, The sun declines, encircling them With scarlet and with gold, That bright transparent heaven above, With purple mists o'erspread,