Thus on the scutcheon of thy sires
Thou plantest many a stain;
The pillars of thine ancient house
Will ne'er be firm again.
But, oh, may Allah vengeance take
For thine unkind deceit,
And sorely weeping mayst thou pay
The vengeance that is meet.
Thus shalt thou pay--thy lover's bliss
Thou shalt not, canst not share,
But feel the bitter mockery
Thy day-long shame must bear.
And what revenge 'twill be to note
When thou dost kiss his brow,
How thy gold tresses, soft and light,
Blend with his locks of snow;
And what revenge to hear him
To thee his loves recount,
Praising some Moorish lass, or mark
His sons thy staircase mount.
Yes, thou shalt pay the penalty,
When, from sweet Genil's side,
Thou passest to the stormy waves
Of Tagus' rushing tide;
Abencerrajes are not there,
And from thy balcony
Thou shalt not hear the horsemen
With loud hoof rushing by.
Thoughts of lost days shall haunt thee then
And lay thy spirit waste,
When thy past glories thou shalt see
All faded and effaced;
All gone, those sweet, seductive wiles--
The love note's scented scroll--
The words, and blushing vows, that brought
Damnation to thy soul.
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