Madge Linsey and other poems | ||
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THE LITTLE BELLS OF SEVILLA
The ladies of Sevilla go forth to take the air,
They loop their lace mantillas, a red rose in their hair;
Upon the road Delicias their little horses run,
And tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, the bells go every one.
They loop their lace mantillas, a red rose in their hair;
Upon the road Delicias their little horses run,
And tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, the bells go every one.
Beside the Guadalquivir, by orange-scented way,
The ladies of Sevilla they come at cool of day;
They wave their fans coquettish, their black eyes gleam and glow,
And all their little carriage bells a-jingle, jingle, go.
The ladies of Sevilla they come at cool of day;
They wave their fans coquettish, their black eyes gleam and glow,
And all their little carriage bells a-jingle, jingle, go.
There, too, the caballeros drive in the perfumed breeze,
Upon the road Delicias among the flowering trees;
Beneath their brown sombreros their dark eyes flame and flash,
And all their little horses' bells right merrily they crash.
Upon the road Delicias among the flowering trees;
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And all their little horses' bells right merrily they crash.
Beside the Guadalquivir the hours are very fair,
The nightingale is tuning upon the scented air;
Oh, laughing Andalusia, beloved of the sun,
Your merry, merry little bells, they call me every one.
The nightingale is tuning upon the scented air;
Oh, laughing Andalusia, beloved of the sun,
Your merry, merry little bells, they call me every one.
Madge Linsey and other poems | ||