"Donna Clara! Donna Clara! Still the gift of life is pleasant. But beneath the earth 'tis frightful, In the grave so cold and darksome. "Donna Clara! Laugh, be merry, For to-morrow shall Fernando Greet thee at the nuptial altar. Wilt thou bid me to the wedding?" "Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro! Very bitter sounds thy language, Bitterer than the stars' decrees are, Which bemock my heart's desire. "Don Ramiro! Don Ramiro! Cast aside thy gloomy temper. In the world are many maidens, But us twain the Lord hath parted. "Don Ramiro, thou who bravely Many and many a man hast conquered, Conquer now thyself,--to-morrow Come and greet me at my wedding." "Donna Clara! Donna Clara! Yes, I swear it. I am coming. I will dance with thee the measure. Now good-night! I come to-morrow." "So good-night!" The casement rattled, Sighing neath it, stood Ramiro. Long he stood a stony statue, Then amidst the darkness vanished. After long and weary struggling, Night must yield unto the daylight. Like a many-colored garden, Lies the city of Toledo. Palaces and stately fabrics Shimmer in the morning sunshine. And the lofty domes of churches Glitter as with gold incrusted. Humming like a swarm of insects, Ring the bells their festal carol. With sweet tones the sacred anthem From each house of God ascendeth. But behold, behold! beyond there, Yonder from the market-chapel, With a billowing and a swaying, Streams the motley throng of people. Gallant knights and noble ladies, In their holiday apparel; While the pealing bells ring clearly, And the deep-voiced organ murmurs. But a reverential passage In the people's midst is opened, For the richly-clad young couple, Donna Clara, Don Fernando. To the bridegroom's palace-threshold, Wind the waving throngs of people; There the wedding feast beginneth, Pompous in the olden fashion. Knightly games and open table, Interspersed with joyous laughter, Quickly flying, speed the hours, Till the night again hath fallen. And the wedding-guests assemble For the dance within the palace, And their many-colored raiment Glitters in the light of tapers. Seated on a lofty dais, Side by side, are bride and bridegroom, Donna Clara, Don Fernando,-- And they murmur sweet love-whispers. And within the hall wave brightly All the gay-decked streams of dancers; And the rolling drums are beaten. Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth. "Wherefore, wherefore, beauteous lady, Are thy lovely glances fastened Yonder in the hall's far corner?" In amazement asked Fernando. "See'st thou not, oh Don Fernando, Yonder man in sable mantle?" And the knight spake, kindly smiling, "Why, 'tis nothing but a shadow." But the shadow drew anear them, 'Twas a man in sable mantle. Clara knows at once Ramiro, And she greets him, blushing crimson.