Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/138

92 Celia, for witching beauty famed

Once far and wide, so foolish proud,

A thousand captives who contemn'd

That all before her bow'd,

Now worn by years would blindly try

Who to her service may be won;

But finds all from her turn to fly,

To look at her finds none.

For with her snow and rose the beams

And lustre of her eyes are flown,

And like a wither'd rose-tree seems,

Sad, wrinkled and alone.

'T is but ingenuous kindness true,

The maid that loves in honour's bonds,

Who listens to her lover sue,

And tenderly responds;

Who at his pleasantries will smile,

Who dances with him at the feast,

Receives the flowers his gift, the while

His love with like increased;

Who him her future husband sees,

Is neither coy nor feels ashamed,

For he as hers, and she as his,

The village through are named,