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FATIMA AND RADUAN.
FROM THE SPANISH.
Diamante falso y fingido,
“FALSE diamond set in flint! the caverns of the mine
"Thou hast called me oft the flower of all Grenada's maids,
“It wearies me, mine enemy, that I must weep and bear What fills thy heart with triumph, and fills my own with care. Thou art leagued with those that hate me, and ah! thou know'st I feel
That cruel words as surely kill as sharpest blades of steel. 'Twas the doubt that thou wert false that wrung my heart with pain;
But, now I know thy perfidy, I shall be well again.
I would proclaim thee as thou art—but every maiden knows That she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes."
Thus Fatima complained to the valiant Raduan, Where underneath the myrtles Alhambra's fountains ran: The Moor was inly moved, and blameless as he was, He took her white hand in his own, and pleaded thus his cause. “Oh, lady, dry those star-like eyes—their dimness does me wrong;
If my heart be made of flint, at least 'twill keep thy image long; Thou hast uttered cruel words-but I grieve the less for those, Since she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes.
LOVE AND FOLLY.
FROM LA FONTAINE.
LOVE's worshippers alone can know
As once, beneath the fragrant shade
Of myrtles breathing heaven's own air, The children, Love and Folly, playedA quarrel rose betwixt the pair.
Love said the gods should do him right—
His lovely mother's grief was deep,
A beauty does not vainly weep,
Nor coldly does a mother plead. A shade came o'er the eternal bliss
That fills the dwellers of the skies; Even stony-hearted Nemesis,
And Rhadamanthus, wiped their eyes.
"Behold," she said, "this lovely boy,"
While streamed afresh her graceful tears, "Immortal, yet shut out from joy
And sunshine, all his future years.
All said that Love had suffered wrong, And well that wrong should be repaid; Then weighed the public interest long,
And long the party's interest weighed. And thus decreed the court above—
"Since Love is blind from Folly's blow, Let Folly be the guide of Love, Where'er the boy may choose to go."
FROM THE SPANISH.
AIRS, that wander and murmur round,
Lighten and lengthen her noonday rest,
Till the heat of the noonday sun is o'er. Sweet be her slumbers! though in my breast
The pain she has waked may slumber no more. Breathing soft from the blue profound,
Bearing delight where'er ye blow,
Airs! that over the bending boughs,