Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/51

Her careless ringlets, as a mourner's, flow
Adown her shoulders and her breasts of snow:
A secret transport through the father ran,
While thus, in sighs, the royal bride began:

And know'st thou not, O warlike king, she cry'd,
That furious Afric pours her peopled tide,
Her barbarous nations, o'er the fields of Spain?
Morocco's lord commands the dreadful train.
Ne'er since the surges bathed the circling coast,
Beneath one standard march'd so dread a host:
Such the dire fierceness of their brutal rage,
Pale are our bravest youth as palsied age.
By night our fathers' shades confess their fear,
Their shrieks of terror from the tombs we hear:
To stem the rage of these unnumber'd bands,
Alone, O sire, my gallant husband stands;
His little host alone their breasts oppose
To the barb'd darts of Spain's innumerous foes:
Then haste, O monarch, thou whose conquering spear
Has chill'd Malucca's sultry waves with fear;
Haste to the rescue of distress'd Castile,
(Oh! be that smile thy dear affection's seal!)

And