I.
Speed, Halcyon, speed, and here construct thy nest:
Brood on these waves, and charm the winds to rest!
No wave should dare to rage, no wind to roar,
Till lands yon blooming maid on Lisbon’s shore.
That maid, as Venus fair and chaste is she,
When first to dazzled sky and glorying sea
The bursting conch Love’s new-born queen exposed,
The fairest pearl that ever shell inclosed.
While love’s fantastic hand had joyed to braid
Her locks with weeds and shells like some sea-maid,
High seated at the stern was Irza seen,
And seemed to rule the tide, as ocean’s queen.
Smooth sailed the bark; the sun shone clear and bright
The glittering billows danced along in light;
While Irza, free from fear, from sorrow free,
Bright as the sun, and buoyant as the sea,
Bade o’er the lute her flying fingers move,
And sang a Spanish lay of Moorish love.