Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/85

 The white foam reeking o'er their wavy mane, The snorting coursers rage and paw the plain; Beat by their iron hoofs, the plain rebounds, As distant thunder through the mountains sounds: The ponderous spears crash, splintering far around; The horse and horsemen flounder on the ground; The ground groans with the sudden weight opprest, And many a buckler rings on many a crest. Where wide around the raging Nunio's sword With furious sway the bravest squadrons gored, The raging foes in closer ranks advance, And his own brothers shake the hostile lance. Oh!