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Through all the land of Xeres and banks of Guadalquiver
Rode forth bridegroom so brave as he, so brave and lovely never. Yon tall plume waving o'er his brow, of purple mixed with white, I guess 'twas wreathed by Zara, whom he will wed to-night. Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down;
Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town!"
The Zegri lady rose not, nor laid her cushion down,
Nor came she to the window to gaze with all the town;
But though her eyes dwelt on her knee, in vain her fingers strove, And though her needle pressed the silk, no flower Xarifa wove; One bonny rose-bud she had traced before the noise drew nigh That bonny bud a tear effaced, slow drooping from her eye — "No, no!" she sighs-"bid me not rise, nor lay my cushion down, To gaze upon Andalla with all the gazing town!"
I'll stay thee with my kisses.
With sour-featured Whigs the Grassmarket was crammed, As if half the West had set tryst to be hanged: