And from the bowers of heaven thy grandsires[1] see
Their various virtues bloom afresh in thee;
One for the joyful days of peace renown'd,
And one with war's triumphant laurels crown'd:
With joyful hands, to deck thy manly brow,
They twine the laurel and the olive-bough;
With joyful eyes a glorious throne they see,
In Fame's eternal dome, reserved for thee.[2]
Yet, while thy youthful hand delays to wield
The sceptre'd power, or thunder of the field,
Here view thine Argonauts, in seas unknown,
And all the terrors of the burning zone,
Till their proud standards, rear'd in other skies,
And all their conquests meet thy wondering[3] eyes.
Now, far from land, o'er Neptune's dread abode
The Lusitanian fleet triumphant rode;
- ↑ Thy grandsires.—John III. king of Portugal, celebrated for a long and peaceful reign; and the Emperor Charles V. who was engaged in almost continual wars.
- ↑
reserved for thee.
Aune novum tardis sidus te meusibus addas,
Qua locus Epigonen inter chelasque sequentes
Panditur; ipse tibi jam brachia contrahit ardens
Scorpius, et cœli justa plus parte reliquit. Virg.
- ↑ thy wondering eyes.—Some critics have condemned Virgil for stopping his narrative to introduce even a short observation of his own. Milton's beautiful complaint of his blindness has been blamed for the same reason, as being no part of the subject of his poem. The address of Camoens to Don Sebastian has not escaped the same censure; though in some measure undeservedly, as the poet has had the art to interweave therein some part of the general argument of his poem.
