Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/30

 Fainty and weak with languid arms they close, And staggering grapple with the staggering foes, So when an oak falls headlong on the lake, The troubled waters, slowly settling, shake: So faints the languid combat on the plain, And settling staggers o'er the heaps of slain. Again the Lusian fury wakes its fires, The terror of the Moors new strength inspires; The scatter'd few in wild confusion fly, And total rout resounds the yelling cry. Defiled with one wide sheet of reeking gore, The verdure of the lawn appears no more: In bubbling streams the lazy currents run, And shoot red flames beneath the evening sun. With spoils enrich'd, with glorious trophies crown'd, The heaven-made sovereign on the battle ground Three