Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/77

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To him the furious queen for vengeance cries,
Implores to vindicate his lawful prize,
The Lusian sceptre, his by spousal right:
The proud Castilian arms and dares the fight.
To join his standard as it waves along,
The warlike troops from various regions throng:
Those who possess the lands by Rodrick given,
What time the Moor from Turia's banks was driven;
That race who joyful smile at war's alarms,
And scorn each danger that attends on arms;
Whose crooked ploughshares Leon's uplands tear,
Now cased in steel in glittering arms appear,
Those arms erewhile so dreadful to the Moor:
The Vandals glorying in their might of yore
March on; their helms, and moving lances gleam
Along the flowery vales of Betis' stream:
Nor staid the Tyrian islanders behind,
On whose proud ensigns floating on the wind,
Alcides' pillars tower'd: Nor wonted fear
Withheld the base Galician’s sordid spear;
Though still his crimson seamy scars reveal
The sure-aim'd vengeance of the Lusian steel.
Where tumbling down Cuenca's mountain side,
The murmuring Tagus rolls his foamy tide,

Along