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A TALE OF GRANADA.
She was a peasant's daughter blithe and fair,
* Pronounced Thanail.
The rainbow's bright but evanescent glow Was the pure maiden's brief career below.
The summer moon is shining bright
To doff its frail mortality,
That sweeps along the starry sky,
Along Alhambra's dreary halls
And royal mirth, and music's swell
Descend into his dismal cell
While lingers yet the evening star
Trip small feet to the light guitar5 And the low tinkling castanet, Which ever glad the Spanish fete; And musically wends the rill Along the olive-shaded hill To mingle with the bright Xenil,'
And golden Darro's7 gentle tide,
That onward pensively doth glide—
A scene so bright—divinely fair,
That one might deem crime lurked not there,
Nor battle ever shook that plain,
Nor blood from noble Zegri's8 vein
Sprinkled the sod like heavy rain,
Nor helm nor shield had strown it o'er,
And many a brave and ghastly Moor.
But by yon dark and pine-clad hill
Hark! to the pirate's whistle shrill—
See! by that rock-embattled shore,
His gliding skiff and muffled oar!
Alas! there is no land on earth
The mermaid chants her song