7. 'My spouse and boys dwell near thy hall, Along the bordering lake, And when they on their father call, What answer shall she make ?— 8. "For who would trust the seeming sighs Of wife or paramour? Fresh feres will dry the bright blue eyes For pleasures past I do not grieve, 9. "And now I'm in the world alone, But long ere I come back again, 10. "With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go Athwart the foaming brine; Nor care what land thou bear'st me to, Welcome, welcome, ye dark-blue waves, Welcome ye deserts, and ye caves! XIV. On, on the vessel flies, the land is gone, His fabled golden tribute bent to pay; And soon on board the Lucian pilots leap, And steer 'twixt fertile shores where yet few rustics reap. XV. Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land! What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree! What goodly prospects o'er the hills expand! But man would mar them with an impious hand And when the Almighty lifts his fiercest scourge 'Gainst those who most transgress his high command, With treble vengeance will his hot shafts urge Gaul's locust host, and earth from fellest foeman purge. XVI. What beauties doth Lisboa first unfold! A nation swoln with ignorance and pride, Who lick yet loathe the hand that waves the sword To save them from the wrath of Gaul's unsparing lord. XVII. But whoso entereth within this town, That, sheening far, celestial seems to be, Disconsolate will wander up and down, 'Mid many things unsightly to strange ee; For hut and palace show like filthily: The dingy denizens are rear'd in dirt; Ne personage of high or mean degree Doth care for cleanness of surtout or shirt, Though shent with Egypt's plague, unkempt, unwash'd; unhurt. .XVIII. Poor, paltry slaves! yet born 'midst noblest scenes Why, Nature, waste thy glory on such men? Through views more dazzling unto mortal ken Than those whereof such things the bard relates, Who to the awe-struck world unlock'd Elysium's gates? XIX The horrid crags, by toppling convent crown'd, The cork-trees hoar that clothe the shaggy steep, The mountain-moss by scorching skies imbrown'd The sunken glen, whose sunless shrubs must The tender azure of the unruffled deep, [weep, The orange tints that guild the greenest bough, The torrents that from cliff to valley leap, The vine on high, the willow branch below, Mix'd in one mighty scene, with varied beauty glow. XX. Then slowly climb the many-winding way, And frequent turn to linger as you go, From loftier rocks new loveliness survey, And rest ye at our "Lady's house of wo;" (2) Where frugal monks their little relics show, And sundry legends to the stranger tell: Here impious men have punish'd been, and lo! Deep in yon cave Honorius long did dwell, In hope to merit Heaven by making earth a Hell. XXI. And here and there as up the crags you spring, Mark many rude-carved crosses near the path: Yet deem not these devotion's offering These are memorials frail of murderous wrath: For wheresoe'er the shrieking victim hath Pour'd forth his bloood beneath the assassin's knife Some hand erects a cross of mouldering lath; And grove and glen with thousand such are rife Throughout this purple land, where law secures not life. (3) XXII. On sloping mounds, or in the vale beneath, Are domes where whilome kings did make repair; But now the wild flowers round them only breathe; Yet ruin'd splendour still is lingering there. son, Once form'd thy Paradise, as not aware [done, When wanton Wealth her mightiest deeds hath Meek peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun: XXIII. Here didst thou dwell, here, schemes of pleasure plan, Beneath yon mountain's ever beauteous brow: But now, as if a thing unblest by Man, Thy fairy dwelling is as lone as thou! Here giant weeds a passage scarce allow To halls deserted, portals gaping wide: Fresh lessons to the thinking bosom, how Vain are the pleasaunces on earth supplied; Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide! XXIV. Behold the hall where chiefs were late convened! (4) Oh! dome displeasing unto British eye! There sits in parchment robe array'd, and by And sundry signatures adorn the roll, Whereat the Urchin points and laughs with all his soul. XXV. Convention is the dwarfish demon styled |