The Works of John Hookham Frere In Verse and Prose Now First Collected with a Prefatory Memoir by his Nephews W. E. and Sir Bartle Frere |
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FROM THE “DIANA” OF MONTE MAYOR. |
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![]() | The Works of John Hookham Frere In Verse and Prose | ![]() |
FROM THE “DIANA” OF MONTE MAYOR.
Murio mi Madre en pariendo
Moça hermosa y mal lograda.
El ama que me dio leche,
Jamas tuvo dicha en nada, &c.
Moça hermosa y mal lograda.
El ama que me dio leche,
Jamas tuvo dicha en nada, &c.
My mother died to give me life—
I was born in sorrowing;
The very nurse that tended me
Was a poor ill-fated thing.
So have I been all my life,
In courtship and in marrying:
Love, so seeming sweet at first,
Left behind a secret sting;
469
And went, forsooth, to serve the king;
My father gave me to a churl,
For such wealth as he could bring.
Would he had given me to the grave,
With a shroud instead of a wedding-ring!
Jealousy couches by my side,
From bed-time to the fair morning.
When I wake he watches me;
When I rise he is on the wing—
Jealousy pursues my path,
To the fold and to the spring.
Jealousy besets me so,
That I can neither laugh nor sing:
I can neither look nor speak
For fear of false interpreting.
His countenance is never gay,
Always sour and threatening;
His looks still peering on one side—
No voice but angry muttering;
If I ask him what he ails,
He never answers anything.
![]() | The Works of John Hookham Frere In Verse and Prose | ![]() |