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

XLV.

And kist her icy lips—ah me, ’twas cold

Reply to love that like a furnace glowed;

Love that all lawless and forbidden told

Its tale more fierce that o’er such bounds it strode—

The solemn bounds ’twixt Life and Death’s abode,

’Twixt Transience and Eternity! Her form

Was fresh and pure, Decay could not corrode

So soon its loveliness. Beltrán i’ the storm