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Narrative poems on the Female Character

in the various relations of life. By Mary Russell Mitford ... Vol. I
  

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XIX.

“Where is that page?”—“With all our train,
He sought the bounds of Christian Spain:
He parted then, upon the bank
Of the soft murmuring Guadalquivir,
Oh, many a tear the slow waves drank,
And many a sigh low-whisper'd sank

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Through alders that o'erhung the river.”
“Whose sigh? Whose tear?” “My liege, it chanc'd,
That night I wander'd by the tide,
And leaning by the poplar's side,
I heard a voice in woe entranc'd:
Sweet was the sound—and not unknown!
‘And must thou go, my dearest one,
‘And must thou go?’ it cried;
‘O life has nothing left for me,
I lose my all in losing thee,
My best belov'd, my pride!’”