40

45

50

55

60

65

"Friends! ye have, alas! to know
Of a most disastrous blow,

That the Christians, stern and bold,
Have obtain'd Alhama's hold."

Woe is me, Alhama!

Out then spake old Alfaqui,

With his beard so white to see,
"Good King! thou art justly served,
Good King! this thou hast deserved.
Woe is me, Alhama!

"By thee were slain, in evil hour,
The Abencerrage, Granada's flower;
And strangers were received by thee
Of Cordova the Chivalry.

Woe is me, Alhama!

"And for this, oh King! is sent On thee a double chastisement:

Thee and thine, thy crown and realm,

One last wreck shall overwhelm.

Woe is me, Alhama!

"He who holds no laws in awe,

He must perish by the law;
And Granada must be won,

And thyself with her undone."

Woe is me, Alhama!

Fire flash'd from out the old Moor's eyes,

The Monarch's wrath began to rise,
Because he answer'd, and because

He spake exceeding well of laws.

Woe is me, Alhama!

70

75

80

85

"There is no law to say such things As may disgust the ear of kings:

Thus, snorting with his choler, said
The Moorish King, and doom'd him dead.
Woe is me, Alhama!

Moor Alfaqui! Moor Alfaqui!

Though thy beard so hoary be,

The King hath sent to have thee seized, For Alhama's loss displeased.

Woe is me, Alhama!

And to fix thy head upon

High Alhambra's loftiest stone;

That this for thee should be the law,

And others tremble when they saw.

66

Woe is me, Alhama!

Cavalier, and man of worth!
Let these words of mine go forth;
Let the Moorish Monarch know,
That to him I nothing owe.

Woe is me, Alhama!

"But on my soul Alhama weighs,
And on my inmost spirit preys;
And if the King his land hath lost,
Yet others may

have lost the most.

90

Woe is me, Alhama!

95

"Sires have lost their children, wives

Their lords, and valiant men their lives; One what best his love might claim

Hath lost, another wealth, or fame.

Woe is me, Alhama!

100

105

110

115

"I lost a damsel in that hour,

Of all the land the loveliest flower;
Doubloons a hundred I would pay,
And think her ransom cheap that day."
Woe is me, Alhama!

And as these things the old Moor said,
They sever'd from the trunk his head;
And to the Alhambra's wall with speed
'Twas carried, as the King decreed.
Woe is me, Alhama!

And men and infants therein weep
Their loss, so heavy and so deep:
Granada's ladies, all she rears
Within her walls, burst into tears.
Woe is me, Alhama!

And from the windows o'er the walls
The sable web of mourning falls;
The King weeps as a woman o'er
His loss, for it is much and sore.
Woe is me, Alhama!

STANZAS.

A friend of Lord Byron's, who was with him at Ravenna when he wrote these Stanzas, says: "They were composed, like many others, with no view of publication, but merely to relieve himself in a moment of suffering. He had been painfully excited by some circumstances which appeared to make it necessary that he should immediately quit Italy; and in the day and the hour that he wrote the song was laboring under an access of fever."

10

COULD Love for ever
Run like a river,
And Time's endeavour

Be tried in vain
No other pleasure

With this could measure,
And like a treasure
We'd hug the chain.
But since our sighing

Ends not in dying,
And, form'd for flying,

Love plumes his wing;

Then for this reason

Let's love a season;

15 But let that season be only Spring.

20

25

When lovers parted

Feel broken-hearted,

And, all hopes thwarted,
Expect to die;

A few years older,

Ah! how much colder

They might behold her

For whom they sigh!

When link'd together,

In every weather,

They pluck Love's feather

From out his wing

He'll stay for ever,

But sadly shiver

30 Without his plumage, when past the Spring.

Like Chiefs of Faction,

His life is action

85

40

A formal paction

That curbs his reign,
Obscures his glory,
Despot no more, he
Such territory

Quits with disdain.
Still, still advancing,
With banners glancing,
His power enhancing,
He must move on
Repose but cloys him,
Retreat destroys him,

45 Love brooks not a degraded throne.

All hideous seem
While first decreasing,
Yet not quite ceasing,
Wait not till teasing

All passion blight:
If once diminish'd

Love's reign is finish'd

60 Then part in friendship,— and bid good-night.

So shall Affection

To recollection

The dear connexion

Bring back with joy: