I like the women too (forgive my folly!),

From the rich peasant cheek of ruddy bronze,[bl]

And large black eyes that flash on you a volley

Of rays that say a thousand things at once,

To the high Dama's brow, more melancholy,

But clear, and with a wild and liquid glance,

Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes,

Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.[bm]