[ 615 ] 
SPANISH SCENERY. 
From Mr. Southey’s Poem of Don Roderick the Last of the Goths. 
a. weary days, with unremitted speed, 
Shunning frequented tracts, the travellers 
Pursued their way ; the mountain path they chose, 
The forest or the lonely heath wide spread, 
Where cistus shrubs sole-seen exhaled at noon 
Their fine balsamic odour all around ; 
Strew’d with their blossoms, frail as beautiful, 
The thirsty soil at eve ; and when the sun 
Relumed the gladdened earth, opening anew 
Their stores exuberant, prodigal as frail, 
Whitened again the wilderness. They left 
The dark Sierra’s skirts behind, and crost 
The wilds where Ana in her native hills 
Collects her sister springs, and hurries on 
Her course melodious amid loveliest glens, 
With forest and with fruitage overbower’d. 
These scenes profusely blest by Heaven they left, 
Where o’er the hazel and the quince the vine 
Wide mantling spreads : and clinging round the cork 
And ilex, hangs amid their dusky leaves 
Garlands of brightest. hue, with reddening fruit 
Pendant, or clusters cool of glassy green. 
So holding on o’er mountain and o’er vale, 
Tagus they crost where midland on his way 
The King of Rivers rolls his stately stream ; 
And rude Alverches’ wide and stony bed ; . 
And Duro distant far ; and many a stream 
And many a field obscure, in future war 
For bloody theatre of famous deeds 
Fore doomed ; and deserts where in years to come 
Shall populous towns arise, and crested towers 
And stately temples rear their heads on high. 
