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In courteous words that cartel bold
He answered; and a cavalcade
Of Christians, with the Moorish guards,
Their journey to Granada made.
The guise of war at once was dropped;
The armory closed its iron door;
And all put on the damask robes
That at high festival they wore.
The Moorish youths and maidens crowd,
With joyful face, the city square;
These mount their steeds, those sit and braid
Bright favors for their knights to wear.
Those stern antagonists in war,
Like friends, within the town are met;
And peacefully they grasp the hand,
And for one day the past forget.
And gallant Almarada comes
(Not Tarfe's self more brave, I ween),
Lord of a lovely Moorish dame,
Who rules her lover like a queen.
A hundred thousand favors she
In public or in private gives,
To show her lover that her life
Is Almarada's while she lives!
And once upon a cloudy night,
Fit curtain for his amorous mood,
The gallant Moor the high hills scaled
And on Alhambra's terrace stood.


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