And Albenzaide keep thy tastes
Proportioned to thy state;
For oft from unrestrained desires
Spring hopes infatuate.
Flee from thy thoughts, for they have wings,
Whose light ambition lifts
Thy soul to empty altitudes,
Where purpose veers and drifts.
Fling not thyself into the sea,
From which the breezes blow
Now with abrupt disdain, and now
With flattering whispers low.
For liberty once forfeited
Is hard to be regained,
And hardest, when the forfeit falls
On heart and hand unstained."
Thus spake Gazul, the Moorish lord
Of fame and honor bright;
Yet, as a craven beggar,
Fair Zaida scorned the knight.
GAZUL'S ARMS
"Now scour for me my coat of mail,
Without delay, my page,
For, so grief's fire consumes me,
Thy haste will be an age;
And take from out my bonnet
The verdant plumes of pride,
Which once Azarco gave me,
When he took to him his bride.
And in their place put feathers black,
And write this motto there:
'Heavy as lead is now his heart,
Oppressed with a leaden care,'
And take away the diamonds,
And in their place insert
Black gems, that shall to all proclaim
The deed that does me hurt,
For if thou take away those gems
It will announce to all
The black and dismal lot that does
Unfortuned me befall.
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