Proud Barcelona, on the sunny shore
That lines with silver Spain's resplendent sea,
What can for sport or splendour vie with thee?
But now, thy day of war and terror o'er,
Like sudden madness burst thy grateful glee.
Thy morning streets were fill'd with pageantry;
At eve thy Rambla rang with dance and song;
Night, midnight found the still unwearied throng
Wandering by seashore, or illumined shade,
Busy with mask, and feast, and serenade.
Sebastian saw its splendours with the eye
Of youth, and health, and recent victory.
But his high heart for nobler pleasures pined,
The joys of mind alone can fill the mind.
War still remain'd; Granada's walls defied
The bold ally that always leads the van;
And never lover long'd to meet his bride
More than he long'd to see the battle's dawn.