Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/155

Nor distance, nor the mountains us between,
Nor stormy seas hoarse roaring, separate
Remembrance of thee from my memory.

⁠The sound of Mars, that now sweet peace awhile
Suspends, has long unhappy silence placed
On my affection. Thou I know content
Livest in obscure delicious quietude,
For ever with untiring zeal inspired
To aid the public weal; of virtue e'er,
And talent, the protector and the friend.

⁠These verses which I frame unpolish'd, free,
Though not corrected with thy learned taste,
In truth announce to thee my constant faith.
And so may Heaven but soon to me return
The hour again to see thee, and relate
Familiarly discoursing, to my view
Whatever of its varied scenes the world
Presented. From my native shores to those
Which bathes the Seine, blood-stained and turbulent;
The daring Briton's, master of the sea,
To the bold Belgian's; from the deep-flowing Rhine
To the high tops of Apennine snow-crown'd,
And that height further, which in burning smoke
Covers and ashes over Naples wide,

The different nations I have visited,