Of these two creatures should be thus traced out Almost like a reality-the one To end in madness-both in misery. PROMETHEUS. I. TITAN! to whose immortal eyes Were not as things that gods despise; A silent suffering, and intense; Which speaks but in its loneliness, And then is jealous lets the sky Until its voice is echoless. II. Titan! to thee the strife was given And the deaf tyranny of Fate, The ruling principle of Hate, Which for its pleasure doth create The things it may annihilate, The wretched gift eternity Was thine-and thou hast borne it well. All that the Thunderer wrung from thee That in his hand the lightnings trembled. III. Thy Godlike crime was to be kind, Still in thy patient energy, In the endurance, and repulse Of thine impenetrable Spirit Which Earth and Heaven could not convulse, A mighty lesson we inherit: Thou art a symbol and a sign To Mortals of their fate and force; Like thee, Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure sourcè; And Man in portions can foresee His own funereal destiny; His wretchedness and his resistence, And his sad unallied existence; And a firm will, and a deep sense, VOL. VI.-A a 250 Triumphant where it dares defy, ROMANCE MUY DOLOROSO DEL SITIO Y TOMA DE ALHAMA. The effect of the original Ballad (which existed both in Spanish and Arabic) was such that it was forbidden to be sung by the Moors, on pain of death within Granada. A VERY MOURNFUL BALLAD ON THE SIEGE AND CONQUEST OF ALHAMA. Which, in the Arabic language, is to the following purport. 1. THE Moorish King rides up and down Through Granada's royal town, From Elzira's gates to those Of Bivarambla on be goes. Wo is me, Alhama! 2. Letters to the monarch tell How Alhama's city fell; In the fire the scroll he threw, And the messenger he slew. Wo is me, Alhama! 3. He quits his mule and mounts his horse, And through the street directs his course; Through the street of Zacatin To the Alhambra spurring in. Wo is me, Alhama! 4. When the Alhambra walls be gained, That the trumpet straight should sound Wo is me, Alhama! 5. And when the hollow drums of war Beat the loud alarm afar, That the Moors of town and plain Might answer to the martial strain, 6. Then the Moors by this aware, That bloody Mars recalled them there, To a mighty squadron grew. Wo is me, Alhama! 7. Out then spake an aged Moor 8. "Friends! ye have, alas! to know That the Christians, stern and bold, Wo is me, Alhama! 9. Out then spoke old Alfaqui, With his beard so white to see, "Good King! thou art justly served, "Good King! this thou hast deserved. Wo is me, Alhama! 10. "By thee were slain, in evil hour, The Abencerrage, Granada's flower; And strangers were received by thee Of Cordova the Chivalry. Wo is me, Alhama! 11. "And for this, oh King! is sent On thee a double chastisement, One last wreck shall overwhelm. "He who holds no laws in awe, Wo is me, Alhama! |