Page:The Triumphs of Temper.djvu/175

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OF TEMPER.
147


Yet, horrid as it seems, her heart is bent
To bear e'en this, and bear it with content.
But, whirl'd at length within the porter's gate,
She thinks what perils at the ball may wait;
And, as she now alights, the fluttering fair
Invokes her guardian to protect her there,
Till thoughts of danger, thoughts of caution, fly
Before the magic blaze that meets her eye.
Th' advancing nymph, at every step she takes,
Pants with amazement, doubtful if she wakes;
Far as her eyes the glittering scene command,
'Tis all enchantment, all a fairy land;
No vestiges of modern pomp appear,
No modern melody salutes her ear:
With Moorish notes the echoing mansion rings,
And its transmuted form to fancy brings
The rich [1]Alhambra of the Moorish kings.
The peer, who keenly thirsts for fashion's praise,
To gild his revel with no common rays,

  1. See the views of this palace in Swinburne's Travels.