Lady of the dark head-dress,
⁠And monkish vest of purple hue,
Gladly would Boabdil give
⁠Granada for a kiss of you.

He would give the best adventure
⁠Of the bravest horseman tried,
And with all its verdant freshness
⁠A whole bank of Darro's tide.

He would give rich carpets, perfumes,
⁠Armours of rare price and force,
And so much he values you,
⁠A troop, ay, of his favourite horse.

"Because thine eyes are beautiful,
⁠Because the morning's blushing light
From them arises to the East,
⁠And gilds the whole world bright.

"From thy lips smiles are flowing,
⁠From thy tongue gentle peace,
Light and aërial as the course
⁠Of the purple morning's breeze.