YIELD, THOU CASTLE! "Castillo, dateme, date." YIELD, thou castle! yield, Thy walls are proud and high, I march me to the field. ROMANCE. "Mi padre era de Ronda." My father was of Ronda, My mother of Antequēr, And I by the Moors was captured ; Six days and nights they kept me Unsold in the slave-bazaar, Would be my purchaser ; He led me to his dwelling, And he bound me with a chain, And I pass'd a life of misery, By night I mill'd the grain ; My hair grew coarse and tangled, I turn'd me to my chain; And when the Moor went hunting She clear'd my tangled hair; Five score doubloons she gave me, And sped me on my way; Praise to the God of Heaven Who placed that Mooress there. Silva de Romances. ROMANCE. "A coronarse de flores." THE lovely morn awakes: a wreath Blessing the new-born light again; On the straw-roofs of meaner things. A shepherd walk'd on Betis' side, He watch'd his flocks and mourn'd his woes; He saw the day-doors open wide, And spoke to the sun which upward rose : "In vain dost thou scatter thy glorious light, For sadness lives in eternal night: In vain the sun and the morn are clad In robes that with Indian splendour vie, For all is dull to the hopeless sad, And weary to mournful memory. I weep, for the light and the joy are gone Of two immortal torches bright, Which envying heaven has made its own, And can see no charms above, beneath, My sun which had a sable brow, And beams which Iris envied ever, Alas! 'tis sunk in the ocean now, Never to rise again, O never! In vain dost thou scatter thy glorious light, Silva de Romances, p. 82. |