Oh! like thy climate's deathless spring,
Succeeding days and years shall bring,
Living affection to my heart,
Till we no more on earth can part."
"Then, dear Gonzalo! let us meet,
As oft as evening airs are sweet,
In yonder bower—my own—my dove,
And I will be thy gentle love.
That bower my Inca-father reared,
For good such thing to him appeared,