Encantadora! All is hushed; In deep repose our kinsmen sleep; Tears from these streaming lids have gushed, In rapture that your tryst you keep. Ah! must I never throb more nigh Than at our casements’ sundered height, Nor steal this distant glimpse of joy But in the depth of night! 3. _Pordiez!_ I would I were a bird, To glide on air beside thy charms, To press thy lip at every word, To fold thee in my longing arms! Oh, yes, by yon star-spangled, soft, Unutterable depth of blue, I swear, as I have murmured oft, To live and die for you! 4. Within thy balcon’s dusky sphere Thou gleamest like an orient pearl; At times I doubt what form is near, An angel or my angel girl! Put coyly forth thy beauteous head, Lest stars grow dim, and Dian pale; Nor let thy voice its music shed; To wake they could not fail! 5. Upraise thy dark mantilla’s edge, And shrink not like a fawn away; But near the balconcillo’s ledge Move for Sant’ Anna’s love, I pray. And bend, oh bend, those glorious eyes Upon thy slave once more, once more; For streams no star from yon blue skies I would as soon adore! VIII. Yet sighs one more for Isidora’s charms; Love’s treasure seldom without Envy shines. And even when Carlos clasps her in his arms In visioned bliss, another secret pines. Fate scowling terrible his bulwark mines, And comes the blow from evilest-omened hand. Nor Carlos nor his rival yet divines Their mutual secret. Blindfold thus they stand, Till Hate in anguished hour whirls high his flaming brand. IX. ’Twas starry midnight lone, when Carlos soft ’Neath Isidora’s open lattice stole, And gently touching his guitar, as oft, In strains melodious poured his melting soul. Even when his deepest cadenced transports roll, An iron hand his shoulder seized--another Held high the gleaming dagger, to its goal Next instant plunged it. Blood the voice doth smother Of Carlos--he looks up--and sees, oh God, a brother! X. ’Twas Jealousy--the scourge of Southern breasts-- Made an unconscious Cain--for deep and true Fraternal love their bosoms both invests, And maniac-like the assassin instant grew, And tore his hair--and raved--then gibbering flew, Like Clytemnestra’s son by Furies driven. Long Carlos crimson lay and dead to view; With morning’s breath a glimpse of life was given, And faint his cry was raised for bounteous aid to Heaven. XI.