Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/147

CANTO II.] Meantime some rude Arion's restless hand

Wakes the brisk harmony that sailors love;

A circle there of merry listeners stand

Or to some well-known measure featly move,

Thoughtless, as if on shore they still were free to rove.

XXII.

Through Calpe's straits survey the steepy shore;

Europe and Afric on each other gaze!

Lands of the dark-eyed Maid and dusky Moor

Alike beheld beneath pale Hecate's blaze:

How softly on the Spanish shore she plays!

Disclosing rock, and slope, and forest brown,