Poems — A La Sombra De Mis Cabellos

A LA SOMBRA DE MIS CABELLOS.

FROM THE SPANISH.

--SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

My love lay there, In the shadow of my hair, As my glossy raven tresses downward flow;

And dark as midnight's cloud, They fell o'er him like a shroud: Ah!

does he now remember it or no?

With a comb of gold each night I combed my tresses bright;

But the sportive zephyr tossed them to and fro;

So I pressed them in a heap, For my love whereon to sleep: Ah!

does he now remember it or no?

He said he loved to gaze On my tresses' flowing maze, And the midnight of my dark Moorish eyes;

And he vowed 'twould give him pain Should his love be all in vain;

So he won me with his praises and his sighs.

Then I flung my raven hair As a mantle o'er him there, Encirling him within its mazy flow;

And pillowed on my breast, He lay in sweet unrest: Ah!

does he now remember it or no?

CONSTANCY.

FROM THE RUSSIAN.

I.

A raven on a branch is sitting;

By him comes another flitting-- Brother, where so quickly flying?

Hast thou scented dead or dying?