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Lovely seems the Sun's full glory
To the fainting seaman's eyes,
When, some horrid storm dispersing,
O'er the wave his radiance flies.

But a thousand times more lovely
To her longing lover's sight,
Steals half-seen the beauteous maiden
Through the glimmerings of the night.

Tip-toe stands the anxious lover,
Whispering forth a gentle sigh:
"Alla* keep thee, lovely lady!
Tell me, am I doom'd to die?

< Is it true, the dreadful story
Which thy damsel tells my page,
That, seduc'd by sordid riches,
Thou wilt sell thy bloom to age?

'An old lord from Antiquera,

Thy stern father brings along;
But canst thou, inconstant Zaida,
Thus consent my love to wrong?

"If 'tis true, now plainly tell me,
Nor thus trifle with my woes;
Hide not then from me the secret
Which the world so clearly knows.'

Deeply sigh'd the conscious maiden,
While the pearly tears descend;
'Ah! my lord, too true the story;
Here our tender loves must end.

Alla is the Mahometan name of God.

'Our fond friendship is discover'd,
Well are known our mutual vows;
All my friends are full of fury;
Storms of passion shake the house.

"Threats, reproaches, fears, surround me;
My stern father breaks my heart;
Alla knows how dear it cost me,
Gen'rous youth, from thee to part.

'Ancient wounds of hostile fury
Long have rent our house and thine;
Why then did thy shining merit

Win this tender heart of mine?

"Well thou know'st how dear I lov'd thee,
Spite of all their hateful pride,
Though I fear'd my haughty father
Ne'er would let me be thy bride.

"Well thou know'st what cruel chidings
Oft I've from my mother borne,
What I've suffer'd here to meet thee
Still at eve and early morn.

'I no longer may resist them; All to force my hand combine; And to-morrow to thy rival

This weak frame I must resign.

"Yet think not thy faithful Zaida
Can survive so great a wrong;
Well my breaking heart assures me
That my woes will not be long.

'Farewell then, my dear Alcanzor!

Farewell too my life with thee!
Take this scarf, a parting token;
When thou wear'st it, think on me.

Soon, lov'd youth, some worthier maiden
Shall reward thy gen'rous truth;
Sometimes tell her how thy Zaida
Died for thee in prime of youth.'

To him, all amaz'd, confounded,
Thus she did her woes impart;
Deep he sigh'd; then cried, ' O Zaida,
Do not, do not break my heart!

'Canst thou think I thus will lose thee?
Canst thou hold my love so small?
No! a thousand times I'll perish!
My curs'd rival too shall fall.

'Canst thou, wilt thou, yield thus to them?
O break forth, and fly to me!

This fond heart shall bleed to save thee,
These fond arms shall shelter thee.'

'Tis in vain, in vain, Alcanzor; Spies surround me, bars secure : Scarce I steal this last dear moment, While my damsel keeps the door.

'Hark, I hear my father storming! · Hark, I hear my mother chide! I must go; farewell for ever! Gracious Alla be thy guide!'

Percy.

THE SPANISH VIRGIN, OR EFFECTS OF JEALOUSY.

ALL tender hearts, that ache to hear

Of those that suffer wrong;

All you that never shed a tear,

Give heed unto my song..

Fair Isabella's tragedy

My tale doth far exceed : Alas! that so much cruelty

In female hearts should breed!

In Spain a lady liv'd of late,
Who was of high degree;
Whose wayward temper did create
Much woe and misery.

Strange jealousies so fill'd her head
With many a vain surmise,
She thought her lord had wrong'd her bed,
And did her love despise.

A gentlewoman passing fair

Did on this lady wait:

With bravest dames she might compare;

Her beauty was complete.

Her lady cast a jealous eye
Upon this gentle maid;
And tax'd her with disloyalty,
And did her oft upbraid.

In silence still this maiden meek
Her bitter taunts would bear,
While oft adown her lovely cheek
Would steal the falling tear.

In vain in humble sort she strove

Her fury to disarm;

As well the meekness of the dove
The bloody hawk might charm,

Her lord, of humour light and gay,
And innocent the while,

As oft as she came in his way,
Would on the damsel smile.

And oft before his lady's face,
As thinking her her friend,
He would the maiden's modest grace
And comeliness commend.

All which incens'd his lady so

She burn'd with wrath extreme;
At length the fire, that long did glow,
Burst forth into a flame.

For on a day it so befel,

When he was gone from home, The lady all with rage did swell, And to the damsel come:

And charging her with great offence,

And many a grievous fault;

She bade her servants drag her thence, Into a dismal vault,

That lay beneath the common-shore :
A dungeon dark and deep,

Where they were wont, in days of yore,
Offenders great to keep.

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