Deem ye what bounds the rival realms divide?
Or ere the jealous queens of nations greet,
Doth Tayo interpose his mighty tide?
Or dark Sierras rise in craggy pride?
Or fence of art, like China's vasty wall?
No barrier wall, no river deep and wide,
No horrid crags, nor mountains dark and tall,
Rise like the rocks that part Hispania's land from Gaul.

But these between, a silver streamlet glides,
And scarce a name distinguisheth the brook;
Though rival kingdoms press its verdant sides,
Here leans the idle shepherd on his crook,
And vacant on the rippling waves doth look,
That peaceful still 'twixt bitterest foemen flow,
For proud each peasant as the noblest duke;
Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know
'Twixt him and Lusian slave, the lowest of the low."

_Childe Harold's Pilgrimage_.


The next morning early a numerous party issued from the eastern gate
of Elvas. The descending road led them between groves of olives, whose
sad colored foliage was relieved by the bright hues of the almond
tree, clothed with pink blossoms, the scarlet flowering pomegranate,
the dark, rich green of the orange-tree, already spangled over with
small white blossoms, yet still laden with its golden fruit, and the
prune trees of Elvas, favorites through the world, leafless as yet,
but conspicuous by the clouds of white flowerets which covered them.