’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.