Amazed, shall view his arrows backward driven,
Showered on his legions by the hand of heaven.
Though twice assailed by many a vengeful band,
Unconquered still shall Dio's ramparts stand;
Such prowess there shall raise the Lusian name
That Mars shall tremble for his blighted fame;
There shall the Moors, blaspheming, sink in death,
And curse their Prophet with their parting breath.
Where Goa's warlike ramparts frown on high,
Pleas'd shalt thou see thy Lusian banners fly;
The Pagan tribes in chains shall crowd her gate,
While the sublime shall tower in regal state,
The fatal scourge, the dread of all who dare
Against thy sons to plan the future war.
Though few thy troops who Conanour sustain,
The foe, though numerous, shall assault in vain.
Great Calicut, for potent hosts renown'd,
By Lisboa's sons assail'd shall strew the ground:
What floods on floods of vengeful hosts shall wage
On Cochin's walls their swift-repeated rage;
In vain: a Lusian hero shall oppose
His dauntless bosom, and disperse the foes,
Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 1.djvu/459
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