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Excerpt from Moorish Cities in Spain
To see the sun hangin amid an azure sky, to watch through long indefinite minutes the indigo wreaths of shadow draping the rugged heights of the Sierra de Cordoba, to hear the dull swirl Of the river, then to turn and gaze at the city, white and motion less in the blaze of the midday sun, still encircling the sweep of the Guadalquiver, as it tumbles and eddies in its wide bed, clasped tight from bank to bank by the great Moorish bridge - these things evoke reections on the ever-changing fate of Spain. Sad indeed is the place, sad and strangely suggestive, for the reason that we shall scarcely find elsewhere a city whose past sleeps so completely.
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