Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

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