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��Silence and horror o'er the isles were spread, The living seem'd the spectres of the dead. The Spaniard saw ; no sigh of pity stole, No pang of conscience touch'd his sullen soul ; The tiger weeps not o'er the kid ; — he tinrns His flashing eyes abroad, and madly burns For nobler victims, and for warmer blood : Thus on the Charib shore the tyrant stood. Thus cast his eyes with fury o'er the tide, And far beyond the gloomy gulph descried Devoted Africa : he burst away, And with a yell of transport grasp'd his prey.
Where the stupendous Mountains of the Moon Cast their broad shadows o'er the realms of noon ; From rude Caffi'aria, where the giraffes browse, With stately heads among the forest boughs. To Atlas, where Numidian lions glow With torrid fire beneath eternal snow :
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