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TO A CASTILIAN SONG WE held the book together timidly, Whose antique music in an alien tongue Once rose among the dew-drenched vines that hung Beneath a high Castilian balcony. I felt the lute strings' ancient ecstasy, And while he read, my love-filled heart was stung, And throbbed, as where an ardent bird has clung The branches tremble on a blossomed tree. Oh lady for whose sake the song was made, Laid long ago in some still cypress shade, Divided from the man who longed for thee, Here in a land whose name he never heard, His song brought love as April brings the bird, And not a breath divides my love from me!
Content of PART I: TO A CASTILIAN SONG [Sara Teasdale's poem collection: Rivers to the Sea]
Read next: PART I#BROADWAY
Read previous: PART I#CROWNED
Table of content of Rivers to the Sea
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