FATIMA AND RADUAN.

FROM THE SPANISH.

Diamante falso y fingido,
Engastado en pedernal, &c.

“FALSE diamond set in flint! the caverns of the mine
Are warmer than the breast that holds that faithless heart of thine;
Thou art fickle as the sea, thou art wandering as the wind,
And the restless ever-mounting flame is not more hard to bind.
If the tears I shed were tongues, yet all too few would be
To tell of all the treachery that thou hast shown to me.
Oh! I could chide thee sharply—but every maiden knows
That she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes.

"Thou hast called me oft the flower of all Grenada's maids,
Thou hast said that by the side of me the first and fairest fades;
And they thought thy heart was mine, and it seemed to every one
That what thou didst to win my love, from love of me was done.
Alas! if they but knew thee, as mine it is to know,
They well might see another mark to which thine arrows go;
But thou giv'st me little heed-for I speak to one who knows
That she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes.

“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
The thousand mysteries that are his;
His blazing torch, his twanging bow,
His blooming age are mysteries.
A charming science-but the day
Were all too short to con it o'er;
So take of me this little lay,
A sample of its boundless lore.

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—
But Folly vowed to do it then,
And struck him, o'er the orbs of sight,
So hard he never saw again.

His lovely mother's grief was deep,
She called for vengeance on the deed;

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.
The child can never take, you see,
A single step without a staff-
The harshest punishment would be
Too lenient for the crime by half.”

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."

THE SIESTA.

FROM THE SPANISH.

Vientecico murmurador,
Que lo gozas y andas todo, &c.

AIRS, that wander and murmur round,
Bearing delight where'er ye blow!
Make in the elms a lulling sound,
While my lady sleeps in the shade below.

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,
Make in the elms a lulling sound,
While my lady sleeps in the shade below.

Airs! that over the bending boughs,
And under the shade of pendent leaves,