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Alas, that circumstance has power to part The destiny of true lovers! Yonder rock Has a wild legend of untoward love, Fond, faithful, and unhappy! There it stands By the blue Guadalquivir; the green vines Are like a girdle round the granite pillars Of its bare crags, and its dark shadow falls Over an ancient castle at the base. Its Lord had a fair Daughter, his sole child,— Her picture is in the old gallery still; The frame is shattered, but the lovely face Looks out in all its beauty; 'tis a brow Fresh, radiant as the spring,—a pencilled arch, One soft dark shadow upon mountain snow. A small white hand flings back the raven curls