When heavy mists decided to retreat 
And undertows turned down their graze
The hoary ocean accepted his defeat
And distant shore ahead arose ablaze

How many nights have seen the face 
Of loud joys and silent wonders
Coimbra! What a lovely place
Your songs kept captive spanless numbers 

And even more fell in a slumber
Under her lulling velvet tunes
Her poems spurt with blood of umber
But then it’s you who’s left with wounds

Side note: consider it a crime
To put blanc feelings in a rhyme