At thy loved name my voice grows loud and clear
Fluent my tongue, as thou art wise and strong,
And soaring far above the clouds my song:
But soon it droops, languid and faint to hear,
And if thou conquerest not my fate, I fear
Invincible Alphonso, Fate ere long
Will conquer me — freezing in death my song,
And closing eyes now opened with a tear.
Nor dying merely grieves me, let me own,
But to die thus — with faith of dubious sound,
And buried name, to future times unknown.
In pyramid, mausoleum, brass, or stone,
For this no consolation could be found
My monument I sought in verse alone!