Iberia Won; A poem descriptive of the Peninsular War / With impressions from recent visits to the battle-grounds, and copious historical and illustrative notes

by T. M. Hughes

IV.

As vines their tendrils curl round sturdy elms,

As delicate flowers their heads bend to the sun,

As ivy twines round oak in forest realms,

As jasmine soft doth o’er the trellis run:

So Isabel her soul doth throw upon

Young Nial’s arm, reposing fearless there.

His hero-heart her confidence hath won.

So brave, so kind he looks that even Despair

His presence flies, and blood less direful hues doth wear.