| |
| THE MAIDEN, through the favoring night, | |
| From Granada took her flight; | |
| She bade her father’s house farewell, | |
| And fled away with Manuel. | |
| |
| No Moorish maid might hope to vie | 5 |
| With Laila’s cheek or Laila’s eye; | |
| No maiden loved with purer truth, | |
| Or ever loved a lovelier youth. | |
| |
| In fear they fled, across the plain, | |
| The father’s wrath, the captive’s chain; | 10 |
| In hope to Seville on they flee, | |
| To peace and love and liberty. | |
| |
| Chiuma they have left; and now, | |
| Beneath a precipice’s brow, | |
| Where Guadalhorce winds its way, | 15 |
| There in the shade awhile they lay. | |
| |
| For now the sun was near its height, | |
| And she was weary with her flight; | |
| She laid her head on Manuel’s breast, | |
| And pleasant was the maiden’s rest. | 20 |
| |
| While thus the lovely Laila slept, | |
| A fearful watch young Manuel kept; | |
| Alas! her father and his train | |
| He sees come speeding o’er the plain. | |
| |
| The maiden started from her sleep; | 25 |
| They sought for refuge up the steep; | |
| To scale the precipice’s brow | |
| Their only hope of safety now. | |
| |
| But them the angry father sees; | |
| With voice and arm he menaces; | 30 |
| And now the Moors approach the steep: | |
| Loud are his curses, loud and deep. | |
| |
| Then Manuel’s heart grew wild with woe: | |
| He loosened stones, and rolled below; | |
| He loosened crags; for Manuel strove | 35 |
| For life and liberty and love. | |
| |
| The ascent was perilous and high; | |
| The Moors they durst not venture nigh: | |
| The fugitives stood safely there; | |
| They stood in safety and despair. | 40 |
| |
| The Moorish chief unmoved could see | |
| His daughter bend her suppliant knee; | |
| He heard his child for pardon plead, | |
| And swore the offenders both should bleed. | |
| |
| He bade the archers bend the bow, | 45 |
| And make the Christian fall below; | |
| He bade the archers aim the dart, | |
| And pierce the maid’s apostate heart. | |
| |
| The archers aimed their arrows there; | |
| She clasped young Manuel in despair: | 50 |
| “Death, Manuel, shall set us free! | |
| Then leap below, and die with me.” | |
| |
| He clasped her close, and cried, “Farewell!” | |
| In one another’s arms they fell; | |
| And, falling o’er the rock’s steep side, | 55 |
| In one another’s arms they died. | |
| |
| And side by side they there are laid, | |
| The Christian youth and Moorish maid; | |
| But never cross was planted there, | |
| Because they perished for despair. | 60 |
| |
| Yet every Moorish maid can tell | |
| Where Laila lies, who loved so well; | |
| And every youth who passes there | |
| Says for Manuel’s soul a prayer. | |
| |
