Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/28

 Thus on the Moors the hero rush'd along, Th' astonish'd Moors in wild confusion throng; They snatch their arms, the hasty trumpet sounds, With horrid yell the dread alarm rebounds; The warlike tumult maddens o'er the plain, As when the flame devours the bearded grain: The nightly flames the whistling winds inspire, Fierce through the braky thicket pours the fire: Rous'd by the crackling of the mounting blaze, From sleep the shepherds start in wild amaze; They snatch their clothes with many a woeful cry, And scatter'd devious to the mountains fly. Such sudden dread the trembling Moors alarms, Wild and confused they snatch the nearest arms; Yet flight they scorn, and eager to engage, They spur their foamy steeds, and trust their furious rage: Amidst the horror of the headlong shock, With foot unshaken as the living rock Stands the bold Lusian firm; the purple wounds Gush horrible, deep groaning rage resounds; Reeking