The smuggler’s horse, the brigand and the shepherd;
The march across the moor; the halt at noon;
The red fire of the evening camp, that lighted
The forest where we slept; and, further back,
As in a dream or in some former life,
Gardens and palace walls.
Arch. ’Tis the Alhambra,
Under whose walls the gipsy camp was pitch’d.
But the time wears; and we would see thee dance.
Pre. Your grace shall be obeyed.