UNREQUITED LOVE.

"Di Juan de que murió Blas."

SAY, Juan, say, of what he died?—
So young, so pensive, and so fair!
Of unrequited love he died-

What said he, shepherd?-thou wert there
When death stood threatening at his side:-
-That of his pains the saddest pain
Was he could not that pain declare-
He would not speak of that again.
Poor youth! he had been scorn'd by pride-
Of unrequited love he died!

And when he felt his failing breath

Grow weak-what said he of his doom?

-That there are pains far worse than death,
And he had known them-thoughts of gloom
Seem'd to hang round him towards the tomb-
Some things he said—and none replied-
Of unrequited love he died!

And when the last, last throb drew nigh,
Before the fluttering spirit fled?
-Soon, soon the pilgrim will be dead:
But there are thoughts which cannot die.
No more he felt, no more he said ;-
He sleeps upon the valley's side-

Of unrequited love he died!

Burgos. (Date unknown.)

THE TWO STREAMLETS.

"Encontrandose dos arroyuelos."

Two little streams o'er plains of green
Roll gently on-the flowers between,
But each to each defiance hurls-

All their artillery are pearls.

They foam, they rage, they shout,-and then
Sink in their silent beds again.

And melodies of peace are heard
From many a gay and joyous bird.

I saw a melancholy rill

Burst meekly from a clouded hill,
Another roll'd behind-in speed
An eagle, and in strength a steed;
It reach'd the vale, and overtook
Its rival in the deepest nook;

And each to each defiance hurls

All their artillery are pearls.

They foam, they rage, they shout,—and then

Rest in their silent beds again.

And if two little streamlets break

The law of love for passion's sake,

How then should I a rival see,
Nor be inflamed by jealousy?

For is not love a mightier power

Than mountain stream, or mountain shower?

Primavera de Romances, p. 57, Madrid, 1623.

EMBLEM.

"Que producira mi Dios."

WHAT shall the land produce, that thou
Art watering, God! so carefully?

"Thorns to bind around

my brow,

Flowers to form a wreath for thee."

Streams from such a hand that flow
Soon shall form a garden fair!
"Yes! but different wreaths shall grow
From the plants I water there."
Tell me who, my God! shall wear,
Wear the garlands round their brow?
"I the wreath of thorns shall bear,
And the flowery garland thou."

Böhl, N. 49.

THE LOVER TO THE MOON.

"Ay luna que reluces."

MOON! that shinest out so bright,
With a pale and silvery light,

Guide my maiden through the night,
Guide my fair maid!

Moon, that shinest out so bright,

Guide my maiden through the night!

Romancero General, 1604.

MAIDEN'S INDISCRETION.

"Bullicioso era el arroyuelo."

NOISY was the streamlet, mother;
It stain'd me as I pass'd-

The wave is fled-O fear no other,—
That danger was the last!

The streamlet roll'd in treacherous hour,
Mother, it gaily roll'd;

With sparkling gem and smiling flower,

Like a living thing of gold:

And I sought to pass the streamlet, mother;
It stain'd me as I pass'd—

That wave is fled-O fear no other,-
That danger was the last.

It idled along, and in devious way,
Midst rocks and rushes to roam;
And its voice was like a minstrel's song
Which whisper'd gently-" come!"
And I trusted to the illusion, mother;
It stain'd me as I pass'd-

That wave is fled-O fear no other,—

That danger was the last.