346
JOSÈ ZORRILLA.
Fair Christian! baleful is my star;
What values it this life to me,
If I must bear it from thee far?
Nor in Granada's bowers may be,
Nor, my fair Cordova, with thee?
Today's bright sun to me will seem
A lamp unseasonably by:
Daughter of Spain, thy beauties gleam
Alone my sun and moon on high,
The dawn and brightness of my sky.
Since then I lose thy light today,
Without that light I cannot live!
To Cordova I take my way;
But in the doom my fortunes give,
Alas! 't is death that I receive.
A paradise and houri fair
Has Mahomet promised we shall prove:
Aye, thou wilt be an angel there,
And in that blissful realm above
We meet again, and there to love.
