Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/119

 Whose mountains' sides, though parch'd and barren, hold, In copious store, the seeds of beamy gold. The Gambia here his serpent journey takes, And through the lawns a thousand windings makes; A thousand swarthy tribes his current laves, Ere mix his waters with th' Atlantic waves. The Gorgades we past, that hated shore, Famed for its terrors by the bards of yore; Where but one eye by Phorcus' daughters shared, The born beholders into marble stared; Three dreadful sisters! down whose temples roll'd Their hair of snakes in many a hissing fold, And scattering horror o'er the dreary strand, With swarms of vipers sow'd the burning sand. Still