As ivy tendrils, round her limbs divine
Their spreading arms the young desires entwine:
Below her waist, and quivering on the gale,
Of thinnest texture flows the silken veil:
(Ah! where the lucid curtain dimly shows,
With doubled fires the roving fancy glows!)
The hand of modesty the foldings threw,
Nor all conceal'd, nor all was given to view.
Yet her deep grief her lovely face betrays,
Though on her cheek the soft smile faltering plays.
All heaven was mov'd—as when some damsel coy,
Hurt by the rudeness of the amorous boy,
Offended chides and smiles; with angry mien
Thus mixt with smiles, advanc'd the plaintive queen;
And thus: O Thunderer! O potent Sire!
Shall I in vain thy kind regard require!
Alas! and cherish still the fond deceit,
That yet on me thy kindest smiles await!
Ah heaven! and must that valour which I love
Awake the vengeance and the rage of Jove!
Yet mov'd with pity for my fav'rite race
I speak, though frowning on thine awful face
Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 1.djvu/455
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