Round the earth and ocean blue,
His children four the Seasons flew.
First, in green apparel dancing,
The young Spring smiled with angel grace;
Rosy Summer next advancing,
Rushed into her sire’s embrace:—
Her bright-haired sire, who bade her keep
For ever nearest to his smiles,
On Calpe’s olive-shaded steep,
On India’s citron-covered isles: