had been divided after the extinction of the house of Ommiah. It
did not long retain its independence, and the only prince who ever
presided over it as a separate kingdom seems to have been Mohammed
Ben Abad, the author of these verses. For thirty-three years he
reigned over Seville and the neighboring districts with considerable
reputation, but being attacked by Joseph, son to the Emperor of
Morocco, at the head of a numerous army of Africans, was defeated,
taken prisoner, and thrown into a dungeon, where he died in the year
488.

SERENADE TO MY SLEEPING MISTRESS[34]

Sure Harut's[B] potent spells were breath'd
Upon that magic sword, thine eye;
For if it wounds us thus while sheath'd,
When drawn, 'tis vain its edge to fly.

How canst thou doom me, cruel fair,
Plung'd in the hell[C] of scorn to groan?
No idol e'er this heart could share,
This heart has worshipp'd thee alone.

_Aly Ben Abd_.

[34] This author was by birth an African; but having passed over to
Spain, he was much patronized by Mohammed, Sultan of Seville. After
the fall of his master, Ben Abd returned to Africa, and died at
Tangier, A.H. 488.

[B] A wicked angel who is permitted to tempt mankind by teaching them
magic; see the legend respecting him in the Koran.

[C] The poet here alludes to the punishments denounced in the Koran
against those who worship a plurality of Gods: "their couch shall
be in hell, and over them shall be coverings of fire."

THE INCONSISTENT[35]

When I sent you my melons, you cried out with scorn,
They ought to be heavy and wrinkled and yellow;
When I offer'd myself, whom those graces adorn,
You flouted, and call'd me an ugly old fellow.

[35] Written to a lady upon her refusal of a present of melons, and her
rejection of the addresses of an admirer.

THE CAPTURE OF JERUSALEM[36]

From our distended eyeballs flow
A mingled stream of tears and blood;
No care we feel, nor wish to know,
But who shall pour the largest flood.

But what defense can tears afford?
What aid supply in this dread hour?
When kindled by the sparkling sword
War's raging flames the land devour.

No more let sleep's seductive charms
Upon your torpid souls be shed:
A crash like this, such dire alarms,
Might burst the slumbers of the dead.

Think where your dear companions lie--
S