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Now when the Pope was aware of this, he was an angry
man, His lips that night, with solemn rite, pronounced the
awful ban; The curse of God, who died on rood, was on that sinner's
headTo hell and woe man's soul must go, if once that curse be
I wot, when the Cid was aware of this, a woeful man was he, At dawn of day he came to pray, at the blessed Father's
knee: “ Absolve, blessed Father, have pity upon me, Absolve my soul, and penance I for my sin will dree.”
“Who is the sinner,” quoth the Pope," that at my foot
doth kneel?” “ I am Rodrigo Diaz-a poor baron of Castille.”Much marvelled all were in the hall, when that name
they heard him say. “ Rise up, rise up,” the Pope he said, “I do thy guilt
“I do thy guilt away,” he said, “and my curse I blot it out;
“My ear-rings! my ear-rings ! they've dropt into the well, And what to say to Muça, I cannot, cannot tell.” Twas thus, Granada's fountain by, spoke Albuharez'
daughter, “ The well is deep, far down they lie, beneath the cold
blue water, To me did Muça give them, when he spake his sad farewell, And what to say when he comes back, alas ! I cannot tell.
“My ear-rings ! my ear-rings ! they were pearls in silver
set, That when my Moor was far away, I ne'er should him
forget, That I ne'er to other tongue should list, nor smile on
other's tale, But remember he my lips had kissed, pure as those ear
rings pale. When he comes back, and hears that I have dropped
them in the well, ( what will Muça think of me, I cannot, cannot tell.
“My ear-rings! my ear-rings ! he'll say they should have
been, Not of pearl and of silver, but of gold and glittering sheen, Of jasper and of onyx, and of diamond shining clear, Changing to the changing light, with radiance insincere That changeful mind unchanging gems are not befitting
wellThus will he think—and what to say, alas! I cannot tell.
“He'll think when I to market went, I loitered by the
way; He'll think a willing ear I lent to all the lads might say; He'll think some other lover's hand among my tresses
noosed, From the ears where he had placed them, my rings of
pearl unloosed; He'll think when I was sporting so beside this marble well, My pearls fell in-and what to say, alas! I cannot tell.
“He'll say I am a woman, and we are all the same;
token. My ear-rings ! my ear-rings ! oh, luckless, luckless well! For what to say to Muga, alas ! I cannot tell.
“I'll tell the truth to Muga, and I hope he will believeThat I have thought of him at morning, and thought of
him at eve;
That musing on my lover, when down the sun was gone, His ear-rings in my hand I held, by the fountain all alone; And that my mind was o'er the sea, when from my hand
they fell, And that deep his love lies in my heart, as they lie in the well.”
The sweet south wind, so long
In the bright land of song,
The labourer at his toil
The aromatic spoil
The bursting buds look up
Opens its azure cup
The reptile that hath lain
Up to the light again;
Continual songs arise
A second Paradise!
Thrice-blessed Spring! thou bearest gifts divine !
Nor unto earth alone-
Telling of Winter flown,
Ay, pale and silent maiden,
Cold as thou liest there,
That ever drew the air,
And yet so gently kind,
A breath of summer wind.
Into the eternal shadow
That girds our life around,
Wherewith Death's shore is bound,
And I were mean to weep,
And dost possess the deep.
Thou liest low and silent,
Thy heart is cold and still,