And of gold each priceless hair;
And the heart is all of steel, my lady,
That sees them without despair.
While a little farther on he gives to the same idea a quaint turn, or answer, such as he delighted to make:—
Not of gold would be your hair, dear lady,
No, not of gold so fair;
But the fine, rich gold itself, dear lady,
That gold would be your hair.[800]
Each is followed by a sort of gloss, or variation of the original air, which again is not without its appropriate merit.
Silvestre was much connected with the poets of his time; not only those of the old school, but those of the Italian, like Diego de Mendoza, Hernando de Acuña, George of Montemayor, and Luis Barahona de Soto. Their poems, in fact, are sometimes found mingled with his own, and their spirit, we see, had a controlling influence over his. But whether, in return, he produced much effect on them, or on his times, may be doubted. He seems to have passed his life quietly in Granada, of whose noble cathedral he was the principal musician, and where he was much valued as a member of society, for his wit and kindly nature. But when he died, at the age of fifty, his poetry was known only in manuscript; and after it was collected and published by his friend Pedro de Caceres, twelve years later, it produced little sensation. He belonged, in truth, to both schools, and was therefore thoroughly admired by neither.[801]