noons
_ Paquita la Sevillane _ , by _ Jan Diaz _ , was published in the _ Echo du Morvan _ , a review which for eighteen months maintained its existence in spite of provincial indifference . Some knowing persons at Nevers declared that Jan Diaz was making fun of the new school , just then bringing out its eccentric verse , full of vitality and imagery , and of brilliant effects produced by defying the Muse under pretext of adapting German , English , and Romanesque mannerisms . The poem began with this ballad : Ah ! if you knew the fragrant plain , The air , the sky , of golden Spain , Its fervid noons , its balmy spring , Sad daughters of the northern gloom , Of love , of heav ' n , of native home , You never would presume to sing ! For men are there of other mould Than those who live in this dull cold . And there to music low and sweet Sevillian maids , from eve till dawn , Dance lightly on the moonlit lawn In satin shoes , on dainty feet . Ah , you would be the first to blush Over your dancers ' romp and rush , And your too hideous carnival , That turns your cheeks all chill and blue , And skips the mud in hob-nail 'd shoe -- A truly dismal festival .