"This little island, where we now abide,54
of all this seaboard is the one sure place
for ev'ery merchantman that stems the tide,
from Quiloa[1] l or Sofálah or Mombas:
Here, as 'tis necessary, long we've tried
to house and home us, like its proper race:
In fine to find you with the facts you seek,
man calls our little island 'Mozambíque.'
"And, as far-faring now ye come to view55
Indic Hydaspes and his burning board,
hence ye shall bear a Pilot, sure and true,
whose skill the safest guidance shall afford:
'T were also well, ere you your toils renew,
vittaile to ship, and let our island-lord,
who governeth this land, his guests behold,
and stock with needed store each empty hold."
His speech thus spake the Moor, and took his leave,56
he and his meiny where the bátels lay:
formal farewells to chief and crews he gave,
exchanging congees with due courtesy.
Now weary Phœbus in the western wave
had stalled the chrystal chariot of the Day,
and gave his bright-brow'd sister charge t' illume
the vast of Earth while lasted nightly gloom.
- ↑ Pronounced Kílwá
