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

 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