And they who plann'd his fall

Have doubled all my love for him :-
Was he rebellious?-all,-

All,-all would I forgive him now;

And had I been obey'd,

He were a prisoner-not a corpse!
Mother-thy child is dead.

Who will console thee?-let thy heart
Burst-and thy soul be sad-
Father and mother-let us weep
O'er our devoted lad-

O fili mi, fili mi,
O fili mi, Absalom.

Silva de Romances.

THE CHRISTIAN CAPTIVE.

"Anda Christiano cautivo."

Alabez. CHRISTIAN Captive, tell us here,

Tell us here

your name,-nor bow Helpless under fortune's blow: Christian, thou hast nought to fear;

True, thou art our prisoner,

Yet thy rescue light shall be,
If, in all sincerity,

Thou wilt answer boldly here.

Quiñonero. Quiñonero is my name,

Lorca is my birth-place-I

Have inherited a fame

Which in me shall never die ;

I am reckless, careless still,

Quiñonero waits

your will.
'Tis the fate of war-to-day
I am yours-and wait your nod-
But to-morrow, Moor, you may
Tremble 'neath my conquering rod.
Ask, and I shall answer,-say
All your weakness wills to know,
Fear my tongue could never sway—
All that willing tongue shall show.

Alabez. Trumpets in the distance sound,
Flags are waving in the breeze,
Horses stamp the echoing ground,
Troops are midst yon olive trees;
Quiñonero,-tell us then,

Tell us then what bands are these,
Whose these banners-who the men
That so boldly forward tread

Where the prophet's troops are spread?

Quiñonero. Yonder splendent penion red,

Where six golden crowns appear,-
That is Murcia's harbinger,

Oft it has to triumph led.

Next there comes a king renown'd,
Arm'd in glorious panoply-
He of Lorca-daring he,

As thy bands too oft have found.
He is from the boundary side
Where Granada's kingdom is:
To be foremost all his bliss,
First in battle all his pride.
Panting for the fight they come,
Breathing fury-seeking war:
Dost thou ask me who they are?
Wouldst thou know each warrior's home?

Go! prepare thee for the fray

Lo! their squadrons hasten nigh

Gather up thy spoils for I

May thy rescue fix to-day.

Alabez. Let them come-they seek their fate,
Ne'er shall they the Rambla see,
So the Koran whispers me,
Woe and death their steps await.
If indeed, by Allah taught,

They should burst the Rambla's wall,
That indeed might us appal-
That would be a fearful thought.
Let them come,-and they shall see
How we meet them manfully;
Sound the trumpet, sound the zambra,
Listen now, for our alhambra

Echoes "victory!—victory!"

Guerras Civiles de Granada.

ROMANCE.

"Yo me levantara, madre.'

MOTHER! I woke at early morn,
Upon San Juan's festal day,
And on the sandy shore, forlorn,

Saw a lone, silent maiden stray:

Alone she had wash'd, and strain'd, and spread Her garments on the rose-tree grove;

"Where shall I

And while they dried, the maiden said, go to seek my love? Where shall I go?-O tell me where?"

And the tide it sunk, and the tide it swell'd;

For thus her song flow'd sweetly there

And a comb of gold in her hand she held,
With which she comb'd her raven hair.
"Tell me, thou busy mariner,
And so may God thy helper prove,

Tell me if thou have seen my love-
Say, hast thou seen him wandering here ?”

Cancionero de Amberes, 1554, III. 75.

L