“My ear-rings! my ear-rings! they’ve dropped into the well, And what to say to Músa, I cannot, cannot tell;” ’Twas thus, Granada’s fountain by, spoke Albuharez’ daughter-- “The well is deep--far down they lie, beneath the cold blue water; To me did Músa give them, when he spake his sad farewell, And what to say when he comes back, alas! I cannot tell. “My ear-rings! my ear-rings!--they were pearls, in silver set, That, when my Moor was far away, I ne’er should him forget; That I ne’er to another tongue should list, nor smile on other’s tale, But remember he my lips had kissed, pure as those ear-rings pale, When he comes back, and hears that I have dropped them in the well, Oh! what will Músa think of me!--I cannot, cannot tell! “My ear-rings! my ear-rings!--he’ll say they should have been, Not of pearl and of silver, but of gold and glittering sheen, Of jasper and of onyx, and of diamond shining clear, Changing to the changing light, with radiance insincere; That changeful mind unchanging gems are not befitting well; Thus will he think--and what to say, alas! I cannot tell. “He’ll think, when I to market went, I loitered by the way; He’ll think a willing ear I lent to all the lads might say; He’ll think some other lover’s hand among my tresses noosed, From the ears where he had placed them my rings of pearl unloosed; He’ll think, when I was sporting so beside this marble well, My pearls fell in--and what to say, alas! I cannot tell. “He’ll say, I am a woman, and we are all the same; He’ll say, I loved, when he was here, to whisper of his flame, But, when he went to Tunis, my virgin troth had broken, And thought no more of Músa, and cared not for his token. My ear-rings! my ear-rings! oh, luckless, luckless well! For what to say to Músa, alas! I cannot tell. “I’ll tell the truth to Músa--and I hope he will believe, That I thought of him at morning, and thought of him at eve: That, musing on my lover, when down the sun was gone, His ear-rings in my hand I held, by the fountain all alone; And that my mind was o’er the sea, when from my hand they fell, And that deep his love lies near my heart, as they lie in the well!” THE LAMENTATION FOR CELIN.