Slowly waned the moon’s pale lustre,
Faintly blushed the rising morn,
As Alonzo groaned in anguish
Under proud Estalla’s scorn.
At her lattice long he’d waited,
With no kindly word was greeted,
“I was loved, but now I’m hated!”
He at length indignant cried —
“Would that in the fight I’d died!
Oh would that I in fight had died!”
Hapless was Alonzo’s fortune!
In fierce duel late he’d slain
A young knight of birth and merit,
And he now must flee from Spain:
Slighted love augments his anguish,
But no more he’ll pine and languish,
Ev’ry home-bred tie he’ll vanquish —
Flies to Tunis in despair —
And he roams a wild Corsair,
Oh he roams a wild Corsair!
Long Estella mourned her Lover;
Cold her mien, but warm her heart;
And she won the Royal favor
His free pardon to impart.
Yet with fruitless care she sought him,
No returning vessel brought him,
Dead at last Estella thought him;
And she cried, in wild despair,
“Maids of ill-placed scorn beware!
Oh still of ill-placed scorn beware!”
Softly falls a soothing murmur,
As the surges almost sleep,
Where the Guadalaviar’s waters
Haste to mingle with the deep:
Then Estella’s sadly roaming,
Lost Alonzo’s fate bemoaning,
When a cry “The Moors are coming!”
Roused her, direst fate to brave,
For no arms was there to save,
And they bore her o’er the wave!
Swift to Tunis sped the Pirates,
There to sell their matchless prize —
But how rose Estella’s wonder
At the scene that met her eyes;
For a Turk of noblest seeming,
Eyes with sudden rapture beaming,
Tears adown his visage streaming,
Started from his shady seat —
Trembling rushed her steps to meet —
And humbly cast him at her feet!
Thus Alonzo and Estella
Wond’ring meet on barb’rous ground;
Soon, forgiving and forgiven,
All their woes in joy were drown’d.
Home he speeds, his best Love near him;
Hopes of bliss now shine to cheer him,
For in undissolving bands
Soon shall join their plighted hands —
Join their hearts and join their hands.