He lives secure from jealous care, holding the priceless dower
Which seldom falls to loving hearts or sons of wealth and power.
Poor is his garb, yet at his side a costly blade appears,
'Tis through security of mind no other arms he bears.
'Tis love that from Granada's home has sent him thus to rove,
And for the lovely Zaida he languishes with love--
The loveliest face that by God's grace the sun e'er shone above.
From court and mart he lives apart, such is the King's desire;
Yet the King's friend Alfaqui is the fair maiden's sire.
Friend of the King, the throne's support, a monarch's son is he,
And he has sworn that never Moor his daughter's spouse shall be.
He has no ease till the monarch sees his daughter's loveliness.
But she has clasped brave Zaide's hand, and smiled to his caress,
And said that to be his alone is her sole happiness.
And after many journeys wide, wearied of banishment,
He sees the lofty tower in which his Moorish maid is pent.
ZAIDA'S LAMENT
Now the hoarse trumpets of the morn were driving sleep away;
They sounded as the fleeting night gave truce unto the day.
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