thought that turned to tears
The eyes of the desponding knight,
As on his sufferings past he thought,
His labors and his present plight;
His hopes, to disappointment turned;
His wealth, now held in alien hands,
His agony o'er love betrayed,
Lost honor, confiscated lands.
And as his loyalty had met
Such ill requital from the King,
He called his page and bade him straight
A limner deft before him bring.
For he would have him paint at large,
In color, many a new device
And write his sufferings on his shield.
No single blazon would suffice.
And first a green field parched and seared;
A coal, in myriad blazes burned,
And like his ardent hopes of yore,
At length to dust and ashes turned.
And then a miser, rich in gold,
Who locks away some jewel bright,
For fear the thief a gem may steal,
Which yet can yield him no delight.
A fair Adonis done to death
Beneath the wild boar's cruel tusk.
A wintry dawn on pallid skies,
A summer's day that turns to dusk.
A lovely garden green and fair
Ravaged and slashed by strokes of steel;
Or wasted in its trim parterres
And trampled by the common heel.
So spake the brave heart-broken Moor;
Until his tears and struggling sighs
Turned to fierce rage; the painting then
He waited for with eager eyes.
He asks that one would fetch a steed,
Of his good mare no more he recks,
For womankind have done him wrong,
And she is woman in her sex.
The plumes of yellow, blue, and white
From off his bonnet brim he tears,
He will no longer carry them;
They are the colors Zaida wears.
He recks no more of woman's love,
His city now he bids farewell,
And swears he will no more return
Nor in Granada seek to dwell.

WOMAN'S FICKLENESS

A stout and valorous gentleman,
Granada knew his worth,
And rich with many a spoil of love,
Went Abenamar forth.
Upon his bonnet, richly dyed,
He bore a lettered scroll,
It ran, "'Tis only love that makes
The solace of my soul."
His bonnet and his brow were hid
Beneath a hood of green,
And plumes of violet and white
Above his head were seen.
And 'twixt the tassel and the crown
An emerald circlet shone.
The legend of the jewel said,
"Thou art my hope alone."
He rode upon a dappled steed
With housings richly dight,
And at his left side clanking hung
A s