Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE GIRL OF CADIZ, by GEORGE GORDON BYRON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Oh never talk again to me Last Line: May match the dark-eyed girl of cadiz. Alternate Author Name(s): Byron, Lord; Byron, 6th Baron Subject(s): Admiration | ||||||||
OH, never talk again to me Of northern climes and British ladies; It has not been your lot to see Like me, the lovely girl of Cadiz. Although her eyes be not of blue, Nor fair her locks, like English lasses', How far its own expressive hue The languid azure eye surpasses! Prometheus-like, from heaven she stole The fire that through those silken lashes In darkest glances seems to roll, From eyes that cannot hide their flashes; And as along her bosom steal In lengthened flow her raven tresses, You'd swear each clustering lock could feel, And curled to give her neck caresses. Our English maids are long to woo, And frigid even in possession; And if their charms be fair to view, Their lips are slow at love's confession; But, born beneath a brighter sun, For love ordained the Spanish maid is, And who, when fondly, fairly won, Enchants you like the girl of Cadiz? The Spanish maid is no coquette, Nor joys to see a lover tremble; And if she love, or if she hate, Alike she knows not to dissemble. Her heart can ne'er be bought or sold -- Howe'er it beats, it beats sincerely; And, though it will not bend to gold, 'T will love you long, and love you dearly. The Spanish girl that meets your love Ne'er taunts you with a mock denial; For every thought is bent to prove Her passion in the hour of trial. When thronging foemen menace Spain, She dares the deed and shares the danger; And should her lover press the plain, She hurls the spear, her love's avenger. And when, beneath the evening star, She mingles in the gay bolero; Or sings to her attuned guitar Of Christian knight or Moorish hero; Or counts her beads with fairy hand Beneath the twinkling rays of Hesper; Or joins devotion's choral band To chant the sweet and hallowed vesper: In each her charms to heart must move Of all who venture to behold her. Then let no maids less fair reprove, Because her bosom is not colder; Through many a clime 't is mine to roam Where many a soft and melting maid is, But none abroad, and few at home, May match the dark-eyed girl of Cadiz. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EYE IN THE ROCK by JOHN HAINES SAN DIEGO AND MATISSE: 1. INSIDE FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF A TREE by CLARENCE MAJOR SAN DIEGO AND MATISSE: 2. OUTSIDE FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF A ROCKING... by CLARENCE MAJOR STREAK OF LIGHT by EAMON GRENNAN MARY DONNELLY by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM ON THE ROAD TO CHORRERA by ARLO BATES THE FOREST MAID by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |
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