E LOVERS.

When Muza parted from Almamen, he bent his steps towards the hill that
rises opposite the ascent crowned with the towers of the Alhambra;
the sides and summit of which eminence were tenanted by the luxurious
population of the city. He selected the more private and secluded
paths; and, half way up the hill, arrived, at last, before a low wall
of considerable extent, which girded the gardens of some wealthier
inhabitant of the city. He looked long and anxiously round; all was
solitary; nor was the stillness broken, save as an occasional breeze,
from the snowy heights of the Sierra Nevada, rustled the fragrant leaves
of the citron and pomegranate; or as the silver tinkling of waterfalls
chimed melodiously within the gardens. The Moor's heart beat high: a
moment more, and he had scaled the wall; and found himself upon a green
sward, variegated by the rich colours of many a sleeping flower, and
shaded by groves and alleys of luxuriant foliage and golden fruits.

It was not long before he stood beside a house that seemed of a
construction anterior to the Moorish dynasty. It was built over low
cloisters formed by heavy and timeworn pillars, concealed, for the most
part by a profusion of roses and creeping shrubs: the lattices above
the cloisters opened upon large gilded balconies, the super-addition
of Moriscan taste. In one only of the casements a lamp was visible; the
rest of the mansion was dark, as if, save in that chamber, sleep kept
watch over the inmates. It was to this window that the Moor stole;
and, after a moment's pause, he murmured rather than sang, so low and
whispered was his voice, the following simple verses, slightly varied
from an old Arabian poet:--

Light of my soul, arise, arise!
Thy sister lights are in the skies;
We want thine eyes,
Thy joyous eyes;
The Night is mourning for thine eyes!
The sacred verse is on my sword,
But on my heart thy name
The words on each alike adored;
The truth of each the same,
The same!--alas! too well I feel
The heart is truer than the steel!
Light of my soul! upon me shine;
Night wakes her stars to envy mine.
Those eyes of thine,
Wild eyes of thine,
What stars are like those eyes of thine?

As he concluded, the lattice softly opened; and a female form appeared
on the balcony.

"Ah, Leila!" said the Moor, "I