and died early on giving birth to a son. His affection at
first was requited, but his brothers opposed the union, and the poet
left Spain, embittered and out of sorts with fate, to find peace and
consolation in distant lands. Many of his poems are deeply tinged with
gloom and pessimism, and the natural inference is that those in which he
praises nature, and wine, and "bacchanalian feasts under leafy canopies
with merry minstrelsy of birds" belong to the period of his life
preceding its unfortunate turning-point, when love still smiled upon
him, and hope was strong.

Some of his poems may serve as typical specimens of the love-poetry of
those days:

"With hopeless love my heart is sick,
Confession bursts my lips' restraint
That thou, my love, dost cast me off,
Hath touched me with a death-like taint.

I view the land both near and far,
To me it seems a prison vast.
Throughout its breadth, where'er I look,
My eyes are met by doors locked fast.

And though the world stood open wide,
Though angel hosts filled ev'ry space,
To me 'twere destitute of charm
Didst thou withdraw thy face."

Here is another:

"Perchance in days to come,
When men and all things change,
They'll marvel at my love,
And call it passing strange.

Without I seem most calm,
But fires rage within--
'Gainst me, as none before,
Thou didst a grievous sin.

What! tell the world my woe!
That were exceeding vain.
With mocking smile they'd say,
'You know, he is not sane!'"

When his lady-love died, he composed the following elegy:

"In pain she bore the son who her embrace
Would never know. Relentless death spread straight
His nets for her, and she, scarce animate,
Unto her husband signed: I ask this grace,
My friend, let not harsh death our love efface;
To our babes, its pledges, dedicate
Thy faithful care; for vainly they await
A mother's smile each childish fear to chase.
And to my uncle, prithee, write. Deep pain
I brought his heart. Consumed by love's regret
He roved, a stranger in his home. I fain
Would have him shed a tear, nor love forget.
He seeketh consolation's cup, but first
His soul with bitterness must quench its thirst."

Moses ibn Ezra's cup of consolation on not a few occasions seems to have
been filled to overflowing with wine. In no o