und;
That I am vain, the rover I,
And to another's bosom bound.
As if, since I have known his love,
I at the window show my face,
Or take another's hand in mine,
Or seek the bull-ring, joust, or race;
Or if my footsteps have been found
To wander a suspected place,
The prophet's curse upon me fall,
Unless to keep the nuptial pact
And serve the pleasure of my lord.
I kept the Koran's law exact!
But wherefore should I waste the time
These tedious questions to recall?
Thou knowest the chase on which he hies,
And yet in silence hidest all.
Nay, swear not--I will naught believe;
Thine oaths are but a fowler's net,
And woe betide the dame who falls
Into the snare that thou hast set.
For men are traitors one and all;
And all their promises betray;
Like letters on the water writ,
They vanish, when love's fires decay.
For to fulfil thy promise fair,
What hours thou hast the whole day long,
What chances on the open road,
Or in the house when bolts are strong.
O God! but what a thought is this?
I strangle, in the sudden thrall
Of this sharp pang of agony,
Oh, hold me, Tarfe, lest I fall."
Thus Adelifa weeping cried
At thought of Abenamar's quest:
In Moorish Tarfe's arms she fell,
And panting lay upon his breast.

THE CAPTIVE OF TOLEDO

Upon the loftiest mountain height
That rises in its pride,
And sees its summits mirrored
In Tagus' crystal tide,
The banished Abenamar,
Bound by a captive chain,
Looks on the high-road to Madrid
That seams the dusty plain.
He measures, with his pining eyes,
The stretching hills that stand
Between his place of banishment
And his sweet native land.
His sighs and tears of sorrow
No longer bear restraint,
And thus in words of anguish
He utters his complaint:
"Oh, dismal is the exile
That wrings the heart with woes
And locks the lips in silence,
Amid unfeeling foes.

O road of high adventure,
That leadest many a band
To yon ungrateful country where
My native turrets stand,
The country that my valor
Did oft with glory crown,
The land that lets me languish here,
Who won for her renown.
Thou who hast succored many a knight,
Hast thou no help for me,
Who languish on Toledo's height
In captive misery?
'Tis on thy world-wide chivalry
I base my word of blame,
'Ti