Through the streets of sad Madrid.
"'Oh, how her face was calm as heaven!
Oh, how her hands were ivory white!
Oh, how she wore the satin slippers
That you kissed on the bridal night!
"'Dark are the lamps of the lonely palace.
Black are the suits the nobles don.
In letters of gold on the wall 'tis written:
Her Majesty is dead and gone.'
"He fainted to hear us, young Alfonso,