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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538038" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Alcayde Of Molina</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">FROM THE SPANISH.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>To the town of Atienza, Molina's brave Alcayde,<br>The courteous and the valorous, led forth his bold brigade.<br>The Moor came back in triumph, he came without a wound,<br>With many a Christian standard, and Christian captive bound.<br>He passed the city portals, with swelling heart and vein,<br>And towards his lady's dwelling he rode with slackened rein;<br>Two circuits on his charger he took, and at the third,<br>From the door of her balcony Zelinda's voice was heard.<br>'Now if thou wert not shameless,' said the lady to the Moor,<br>'Thou wouldst neither pass my dwelling, nor stop before my door.<br>Alas for poor Zelinda, and for her wayward mood,<br>That one in love with peace should have loved a man of blood!<br>Since not that thou wert noble I chose thee for my knight,<br>But that thy sword was dreaded in tournay and in fight.<br>Ah, thoughtless and unhappy! that I should fail to see<br>How ill the stubborn flint and the yielding wax agree.<br>Boast not thy love for me, while the shrieking of the fife<br>Can change thy mood of mildness to fury and to strife.<br>Say not my voice is magic--thy pleasure is to hear<br>The bursting of the carbine, and shivering of the spear.<br>Well, follow thou thy choice--to the battle-field away,<br>To thy triumphs and thy trophies, since I am less than they.<br>Thrust thy arm into thy buckler, gird on thy crooked brand,<br>And call upon thy trusty squire to bring thy spears in hand.<br>Lead forth thy band to skirmish, by mountain and by mead,<br>On thy dappled Moorish barb, or thy fleeter border steed.<br>Go, waste the Christian hamlets, and sweep away their flocks,<br>From Almazan's broad meadows to Siguenza's rocks.<br>Leave Zelinda altogether, whom thou leavest oft and long,<br>And in the life thou lovest forget whom thou dost wrong.<br>These eyes shall not recall thee, though they meet no more thine own,<br>Though they weep that thou art absent, and that I am all alone.'<br>She ceased, and turning from him her flushed and angry cheek,<br>Shut the door of her balcony before the Moor could speak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Cullen+Bryant">William Cullen Bryant</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538038" data-title="The Alcayde Of Molina de William Cullen Bryant" data-description="FROM THE SPANISH.


To the town of Atienza, Molina's brave Alcayde,
The courteous and the valorous, led forth his bold brigade.
The Moor came back in triumph, he came without a wound,
With many a Christian standard, and Christian captive bound.
He..."></div>
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