When nobly rising with a like disdain
The young Cornelius raged, nor raged in vain:
On his dread sword his daunted peers he swore,
(The reeking blade yet black with Punic gore)
While life remain'd their arms for Rome to wield,
And but with life their conquer'd arms to yield.
Such martial rage brave Nunio's mien inspired;
Fear was no more: with rapturous ardour fired,
To horse, to horse, the gallant Lusians cry'd;
Rattled the belted mails on every side,
The spear-staff trembled; round their necks they waved
Their shining falchions, and in transport raved,
The king our guardian!—loud their shouts rebound,
And the fierce commons echo back the sound.
The mails that long in rusting peace had hung,
Now on the hammer'd anvils hoarsely rung:
Some soft with wool the plumy helmets line,
And some the breast-plate's scaly belts entwine:
Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/81
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