LXV.

Fair is proud Seville; let her country boast Her strength, her wealth, her site of ancient days;[14.B.] But Cadiz, rising on the distant coast,[82] Calls forth a sweeter, though ignoble praise. Ah, Vice! how soft are thy voluptuous ways! While boyish blood is mantling, who can 'scape[cx] The fascination of thy magic gaze? A Cherub-Hydra round us dost thou gape, And mould to every taste thy dear delusive shape.