XIX. GENTLE RIVER, GENTLE RIVER. Although the English are remarkable for the number and variety of their ancient Ballads, and retain perhaps a greater fondness for these old fimple rhapsodies of their ancestors, than most other nations; they are not the only people who havɛ diftinguished themselves by compofitions of this kind. The Spaniards have great multitudes of them, many of whic↳ are of the highest merit. They call them in their language Romances, and have collected them into volumes under the titles of Ei Romancero, El Cancionero†, &c. Most of them relate to their conflicts with the Moers, and difplay a jpiri. of gallantry peculiar to that romantic people. But of all the Spanish ballads, none exceed in poetical merit thoje inferted in a little Spanish "Hiftory of the civil wars of Granada,” defcribing the diffentions which raged in that last seat of Moorish empire before it was conquered in the reign of Ferdinand and Ijabella, in 1491. In this History (or perhaps, Romance) a great number of heroic fongs are inferted and appealed to as authentic vouchers for the truth of facts. In reality, the profe narrative jeems to be drawn up for no oiber end, but to introduce and illuftrate thefe beautiful pieces. The Spanish editor pretends (how truly I know not) that they are tranflations from the Arabic or Moriko language. Indeed the plain unadorned nature of the verge, and the native fimplicity of language and fentiment, which runs though the je poems, prove that they are ancient; or, at leaf, that they were written before the Caftillians began to form themselves on the model of the Tufcan poets, and had imported from Italy that fondness for conceit and refinement, which has for these ti. e. The ballad-finger. two centuries paft fo miferably infected the Spanish poetry, and rendered it unnatural affected, and obfcure. As a specimen of the ancient Spanish manner, which very much refembles that of our old English Bards and Minstrels, the Reader is defired candidly to accept the two following poems. They are given from a fmall Collection of pieces of this kind, which the Editor fome years ago tranflated for bis amusement when he was studying the Spanish language. As the first is a pretty clofe tranflation, to gratify the curious it is accompanied with the original. The Metre is the fame in all theje old panish fongs and its plain unpolished nature ftrongly argues its great antiquity. It runs in fport ftanzas of four lines. of which the fecond and fourth alone correfpond in their terminations; and in thefe it is only required that the vorvels fhould be alike, the confonants may be altogether different, as pone cafa Yet has this kind of verse a fort of fimple harmonious flow, which atones for the imperfect nature of the rhyme, and renders it not unpleafing to the ear. The jame flow of numbers has been ftudied in the following verfions. The first of them is given from two different originals, both of which are printed in the Hift. de las civiles guerras de Granada. Mad. 1694. One of them hath the rhimes ending in AA, the other in IA. It is the former of these that is here reprinted. They both of them begin with the fame line, Rio verde, rio verde ‡, which could not be tranflated faithfully ; Verdant river, verdant river, would have given an affected fiffness to the verse; the great merit of which is its easy fimplicity; and therefore a more fimple epithet was adopted, though less poetical or expressive. G ↑ Literally, Green river, green river. ENTLE river, gentle river, Lo, thy ftreams are ftain'd with gore, Many a brave and noble captain Floats along thy willow'd fhore. All befide thy limpid waters, All befide thy fands fo bright, Moorish Chiefs and Christian Warriors Lords, and dukes, and noble princes On thy fatal banks were flain: All the pride and flower of Spain. There the hero, brave Alonzo Full of wounds and glory died : 15 There the fearless Urdiales Fell a victim by his fide. Lo! where yonder Don Saavedra Proud Seville his worth admires. Close behind a renegado Loudly fhouts with taunting cry; Yield thee, yield thee, Don Saavedra, Doeft thou from the battle fly? 20 May our prophet grant iny wishes, Haughty chief, thou shalt be mine : Thou shalt drink that cup of forrow, Which I drank when I was thine. 35 Like |