Poem by George Croly

Barcelona (Proud Barcelona, on the sunny shore)

Proud Barcelona, on the sunny shore
That lines with silver Spain's resplendent sea,
What can for sport or splendor vie with thee?
But now, thy day of war and terror o'er,
Like sudden madness burst thy grateful glee.
Thy morning streets were filled with pageantry;
At eve thy Rambla rang with dance and song;
Night, midnight, found the still unwearied throng
Wandering by seashore or illumined shade,
Busy with masque and feast and serenade.

1. Lines Written at Spithead
2. The French Army in Russia
3. Nelson’s Pillar
4. The Genius of Death

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