Their necks encircle. Camisoles each gown
Surmount, gallooned with silk or silver from
Shoulder to waist so fair that Envy’s self is dumb.
XXIII.
’Twas thus the Basque barqueras, happiest race,
Like their Cantabrian mothers rowed along;
A nymph-republic from whose dwelling-place
Both man and dame excludes the Nereid throng,
True to their Ocean-sire, as Dian strong.
Two row each bark, and one Dorina steers