There is not a nation in Europe but labours To toady itself, and to humbug its neighbours-- "Earth has no such folks--no folks such a city, So great, or so grand, or so fine, or so pretty," Said Louis Quatorze, "As this Paris of ours!" --Mr. Daniel O'Connell exclaims, "By the Pow'rs, _Ould_ Ireland's on all hands admitted to be The first flow'r of the earth, and first _Gim_ of the sea!"-- --Mr. Bull will inform you that Neptune,--a lad he, With more of affection than rev'rence, styles "Daddy,"-- Did not scruple to "say To Freedom, one day," That if ever he changed his aquatics for dry land, His home should be Mr. B.'s "Tight little Island."-- He adds, too, that he, The said Mr. B., Of all possible Frenchmen can fight any three; That, with no greater odds, he knows well how to treat them, To meet them, defeat them, and beat them, and eat them.-- --In Italy, too, 'tis the same to the letter; There each Lazzarone Will cry to his crony, "See Naples, then die![25] and the sooner the better!" The Portuguese say, as a well understood thing, "Who has not seen Lisbon[26] has not seen a good thing!"-- While an old Spanish proverb runs glibly as under, "QUIEN NO HA VISTO SEVILLA NO HA VISTO MARAVILLA!" "He who ne'er has viewed Seville has ne'er view'd a Wonder!" And from all I can learn this is no such great blunder. In fact, from the river, The fam'd Guadalquiver, Where many a knight's had cold steel through his liver,[27] The prospect _is_ grand. The _Iglesia Mayor_ Has a splendid effect on the opposite shore, With its lofty _Giralda_, while two or three score Of magnificent structures around, perhaps more, As our Irish friends have it, are there "to the fore;" Then the old Alcazar, More ancient by far, As some say, while some call it one of the palaces Built in twelve hundred and odd by Abdalasis, With its horse-shoe shaped arches of Arabesque tracery, Which the architect seems to have studied to place awry, Saracenic and rich; And more buildings, "the which," As old Lilly, in whom I've been looking a bit o' late, Says, "You'd be bored should I now recapitulate;"[28] In brief, then, the view Is so fine and so new, It would make you exclaim, 'twould so forcibly strike ye, If a Frenchman, "_Superbe!_"--if an Englishman, "Crikey!!" Yes! thou _art_ "WONDERFUL!"--but oh, 'Tis sad to think, 'mid scenes so bright As thine, fair Seville, sounds of woe, And shrieks of pain, and wild affright, And soul-wrung groans of deep despair, And blood, and death should mingle there! Yes! thou art "WONDERFUL!"--the flames That on thy towers reflected shine, While earth's proud Lords and high-born Dames, Descendants of a mighty line, With cold unalter'd looks are by To gaze, with an unpitying eye, On wretches in their agony.