Here you will find the Poem Song From The Spanish Of Iglesias of poet William Cullen Bryant
Alexis calls me cruel; The rifted crags that hold The gathered ice of winter, He says, are not more cold. When even the very blossoms Around the fountain's brim, And forest walks, can witness The love I bear to him. I would that I could utter My feelings without shame; And tell him how I love him, Nor wrong my virgin fame. Alas! to seize the moment When heart inclines to heart, And press a suit with passion, Is not a woman's part. If man comes not to gather The roses where they stand, They fade among their foliage; They cannot seek his hand.
