Ah, could my darling see it so,

And weary seem? No, no; no, no.

My love is lone and weeps, I see;

Yet here I wait to win her,

For what is all the world to me,

My arms are clasping in her.

Ah, could my darling see it so,

And lonely seem? No, no; no, no.

MY DREAM AT CORDOVA.

I.