O Guadalaxara!
Thy beautiful river
Is rolling on ever
Its waters so clear.

O Guadalaxara!
Thy evergreens, bending
Their wide boughs, are lending
A shadow, how dear.

O Guadalaxara!
Thy current is flowing,
Like gales softly blowing,
Or flutes breathing near.

The town of Pesara
Stands brightly beside thee,
And gay galleys ride thee,
O Guadalaxara!


Murmuring river,
Falling ever,
And silent never,
Thou hurriest by.
Now softly flowing,
And brightly glowing,
And clearly showing,
Thy waters lie.

Through meadows bending,
Sweet flowers are sending
Their breath, and lending
Thy wave perfume.
The myrtle covers
Thy banks, and lovers,
As evening hovers,
Are in its gloom.

And lilies, swelling
With dew, and smelling
Of morn, are telling
Their leaves below.
No fairest flower,
In bush or bower,
So takes the shower,
And scents it so.

Dark eyes are flashing,
And fair hands dashing
Thy foam, and plashing
The bubbles fly.
So, murmuring river,
Falling ever,
And silent never,
Thou hurriest by.


Music and dances,
Smiles and bright glances,
Love's happy chances,
All are at play.
Youths with gay sashes,
Girls with calashes,
Quick as light flashes,
Foot it away.

Viols are tinkling,
Light feet are twinkling,
Snowy veils crinkling,
Round as they go.
Soft voices prattle,
Castanets rattle,
Love's mimic battle
Mingles them so.

Now the dance closes, —
Baskets of roses,
Woven in posies,
Gayly they twine.
Goblets are clashing,
Amber lights flashing,
Young lovers dashing
Beauty in wine.

All now is over, —
White mantles hover,
Each with a lover,
Back to the town.
None of them misses
Sweetest of blisses,
Dewy wet kisses, —
That is love's crown.
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