Have ye met?'

Have ye sighed, listening to the calm voice

Of the bard of love, of the bard of grief?

When in the woods the youth ye saw

And met the glance of his dulled eyes,

Have ye sighed?

1816.

SPANISH LOVE-SONG.

EVENING Zephyr

Waves the ether.

Murmurs,

Rushes

The Guadalquivir.

Now the golden moon has risen,

Quiet,... Tshoo... guitar's now heard....

Now the Spanish girl young

O'er the balcony has leaned.

Evening Zephyr

Waves the ether.

Murmurs,

Rushes

The Guadalquivir.

Drop thy mantle, angel gentle,

And appear as fair as day!

Thro' the iron balustrade

Put thy wondrous tender foot!

Evening Zephyr

Waves the ether.

Murmurs,

Rushes

The Guadalquivir.

1824.

LOVE.

BITTERLY groaning, jealous maid the youth was scolding;

He, on her shoulder leaning, suddenly was in slumber lost.

Silent forthwith is the maid; his light sleep now fondles she