Page:Pictures In Rhyme.djvu/75

Rh All hopeless my future; how can I sustain it, For ever, Granada, an exile from thee? If weeping comes o'er me, why should I restrain it? A king's tears fall not for the lands of the free.

As wending my weary way over the mountains, I turn me to take a last look at thy towers; Farewell to thee ever, thou City of Fountains, The flag of the Christian waves over my bowers!