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And Salem's gate her open folds display'd,
When Godfrey conquer'd by the hero's aid.
But now no more in tented fields opposed,
By Tagus' stream his honoured age lie closed;
Yet still his dauntless worth, his virtue lived,
And all the father in the son survived.
And soon his worth was proved, the parent dame
Avowed a second hymeneal flame.
The low-born spouse assumes the monarch's place,
And from the throne expels the orphan race.
But young Alphonso, like his sires of yore,
(His grandsire's virtues, as his name, he bore),
Arms for the fight, his ravish'd throne to win,
And the laced helmet grasps his beardless chin.
Her fiercest firebrands, civil discord waved,
Before her troops the lustful mother raved;
Loft
