Zara's Earrings

Zara's Earrings

My earrings! my earrings! they've dropt into the well,
And what to say to Muca, I cannot, cannot tell-
'Twas thus Grenada's fountain by, spoke Albuharez' daughter,
The well is deep, far down they lie, beneath the cold blue water-
To me did Muca give them, when he spoke his sad farewell,
And what to say when he comes back, alas! I cannot tell

My earrings! my earrings! they were pearls in silver set,
That when my Moor was far away, I ne'er should him forget,
That I ne'er to other tongue should list, nor on other's tale,
But remember he my lips had kissed, pure as those earrings pale-
When he comes back and hears that I have dropt them in the well,
Oh what will Muca think of me, I cannot, cannot tell

My earrings! my earrings! 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 place 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:
My earrings! my earrings! oh luckless, luckless well,
For what to say to Muca, alas! I cannot tell.

I'll tell the truth to Muca, 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 earrings in my hand I held, by the fountain all alone:
At that my mind was o'er the sea, when from my hand they fell,
And that deep his love lies in my heart, as they lie in the well.

2:30, p. 239

1828.10.17

From Lockart's Spanish Ballads