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King Chico read his lady's note and silent laid it down; Then to the window he drew nigh, and gazed upon the town; And lost in thought he pondered upon each tender line, And sudden tears and a sigh of grief were his inward sorrow's sign. And he called for ink and paper, that Vindaraja's heart Might know that he remembered her and sought to heal its smart.
Since thou knowest that death to me and thee will strike an equal blow, It is just that, while we live, our hearts with equal hopes should glow. Then no longer vex thy lover with complaints that he may change; Darling, oft these bitter questions can the fondest love estrange; No, I dream not of estrangement, for thy Chico evermore Thinks upon his Vindaraja's image only to adore."
There, while the Moorish monarch longs to have her at his side, More keen is Vindaraja's wish to be a monarch's bride. Ah! long delays the moment that shall bring her liberty, A thousand thousand years in every second seem to fly! For she thinks of royal Chico, and her face with tears is wet, For she knows that absence oft will make the fondest heart forget.
O King and master, if, indeed, I am thy loved one still, As in those days when I was first upon Alhambra's hill, Send rescue for thy darling, or fear her love may fade, For love that needs the sunlight must wither in the shade. And yet I cannot doubt thee; if e'er suspicion's breath Should chill my heart, that moment would be Vindaraja's death.
Oblivion could not, could not cloud the image on his soul impressed, Unless dark treachery from the first had been the monarch of his breast And if perhaps some weary hours I thought that Vindaraja's mind Might in some happier cavalier the solace of her slavery find, I checked the thought; I drove away the vision that with death was rife, For e'er my trust in thee I lost, in battle I'd forego my life!
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