rd;
Wilt thou not heed my tears, my sighs--begone without a word!
Thy bosom is not made of flesh, for, ah! thou canst not feel,
Thou hast no need of arms in fight, for it is hard as steel."
The Spaniard gazed upon her, his heart was full of pride;
She held him fast and even her words retained him at her side.
"Lady," he said, and kissed her, "spite of thy words unwise,
Thou art as sweet as ever in thy lover's faithful eyes.
And since to love and honor this night thou hast appealed,
I take my arms and go, for right it is to thee I yield;
I go into the battle and my body seeks the fight,
But my soul behind me lingers in thy bosom of delight;
Oh, grant me, Lord and Master, to seek the camp below,
Oh, let me take the name to-night and I will cheerful go,
Bearing the sword, the lance, and coat of mail against the foe!"

MOORISH ROMANCES

[_Metrical Translation by J. Lockhart_]

MOORISH ROMANCES

THE BULL-FIGHT OF GAZUL

[Gazul is the name of one of the Moorish heroes who figure in the
"_Historia de las Guerras Civiles de Granada_." The following ballad
is one of very many in which the dexterity of the Moorish cavaliers in the
bull-fight is described. The reader will observe that the shape, activity,
and resolution of the unhappy animal destined to furnish the amusement of
the spectators, are enlarged upon, just as the qualities of a modern
race-horse might be among ourselves: nor is the bull without his name. The
day of the Baptist is a festival among the Mussulmans, as well as among
Christians.]

King Almanzor of Granada, he hath bid the trumpet sound,
He hath summonded all the Moorish lords, from the hills and plains
around;
From vega and sierra, from Betis and Xenil,
They have come with helm and cuirass of gold and twisted steel.

Tis the holy Baptist's feast they hold in royalty and state,
And they have closed the spacious lists beside the Alhambra's gate;
In gowns of black and silver laced, within the tented ring,
Eight Moors to fight the bull are placed in presence of the King.

Eight Moorish lords of valor tried, with stalwart arm and true,
The onset of the beasts abide, as they come rushing through;
The deeds they've done, the spoils they've won, fill all with hope and
trust,
Yet ere high in heaven appears the sun they all have bit the dust.

Then sounds the trumpet clearly, then clangs the loud tambour,