By thee were slain, in evil hour, The Abencerrage, Granada's flower; And strangers were received by thee Of Cordova the Chivalry. Woe is me, Alhama!
And for this, O King! is sent On thee a double chastisement: Thee and thine, thy crown and realm, One last wreck shall overwhelm. Woe is me, Alhama!
He who holds no laws in awe, He must perish by the law; And Granada must be won, And thyself with her undone.’ Woe is me, Alhama!
Fire flashed from out the old Moor's eyes, The monarch's wrath began to rise, Because he answered, and because He spake exceeding well of laws. Woe is me, Alhama!
‘There is no law to say such things As may disgust the ear of kings:’ Thus, snorting with his choler, said The Moorish King, and doomed him dead. Woe is me, Alhama!
Moor Alfaqui! Moor Alfaqui! Though thy beard so hoary be, The King hath sent to have thee seized, For Alhama's loss displeased. Woe is me, Alhama!
And to fix thy head upon High Alhambra's loftiest stone; That this for thee should be the law, And others tremble when they saw. Woe is me, Alhama!
‘Cavalier, and man of worth! Let these words of mine go forth! Let the Moorish Monarch know, That to him I nothing owe. Woe is me, Alhama!
But on my soul Alhama weighs, And on my inmost spirit preys; And if the King his land hath lost, Yet others may have lost the most. Woe is me, Alhama!
Sires have lost their children, wives Their lords, and valiant men their lives! One what best his love might claim Hath lost, another wealth, or fame. Woe is me, Alhama!