JOSÈ ZORRILLA.
345
THE CAPTIVE.
I go, fair Nazarene, tomorrow
To queenly Cordova again;
Then thou, my song of love and sorrow
To hear, no longer mayst complain,
Sung to the compass of my chain.
When home the Christians shall return,
In triumph o'er the Moorish foe,
My cruel destiny wouldst thou learn?
The history of my loves to know,
The blood upon their hands shall show.
Better it were at once to close,
In this dark tower a captive here,
The life I suffer now of woes,
Than that today thou sett'st me clear;
Alas! thou sell'st it very dear.
Adieu! tomorrow o'er, thy slave
May never vex thy soul again,
But vain is all the hope it gave:
Still must I bear the captive's chain,
Thine eyes my prison still remain.
