’Neath fluttering banderoles, and oft with song

They tune their oars, or dance with merry cheers

Zorcícos, while Basque drum and timbrel greet the ears.

XXIV.

And oft, through summertide, some sheltered cove

On fair Biscaya’s coast these Nereids sought

To cool their lovely limbs, while far above

A sister-sentinel their safety wrought,

With eyes whose jealousy was still uncaught.