Off Gibraltar, the speaker watches evening fall: the sun sinks in yellow mist beyond Spain, stars appear, and the sea glows amethyst. It should be a peaceful, beautiful scene. But her thoughts turn to someone far away—“the city of my love”—where it is still high noon with a bare, burning sky. The contrast becomes emotional. For him, she says, there is the happiness of light; for her, a delicate despair. The mood is one of quiet loneliness and longing. Surrounded by loveliness, she cannot share it with the person she loves. Her sadness is gentle, not dramatic, as if she has accepted the separation. The final phrase, “delicate despair,” captures that restrained, wistful sorrow: she is not destroyed by the distance, but she feels it even in the middle of all this beauty.
Off Gibraltar — Summary
Beyond the sleepy hills of Spain, The sun goes down in yellow mist, The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst.
Yet in the city of my love High noon burns all the heavens bare-- For him the happiness of light, For me a delicate despair.