And what fair palms their martial ardour crown'd,
When led to battle by the chief renown'd,
Who[1] feign'd a dæmon, in a deer conceal'd,
To him the counsels of the Gods reveal'd.
And now, ambitious to extend their sway
Beyond their conquests on the southmost bay
Of Afric's swarthy coast, on floating wood
They brave the terrors of the dreary flood,
Where only black-wing'd mists have hover'd o'er,
Or driving clouds have sail'd the wave before;
Beneath new skies they hold their dreadful way
To reach the cradle of the new-born day:
And Fate, whose mandates unrevok'd remain,
Has will'd that long shall Lusus' offspring reign
The lords of that wide sea, whose waves behold
The sun come forth enthroned in burning gold.
But now, the tedious length of winter past,
Distress'd and weak, the heroes faint at last.
What gulphs they dared, you saw, what storms they braved,
Beneath what various heavens their banners waved!
Now Mercy pleads, and soon the rising land
To their glad eyes shall o'er the waves expand.
As
- ↑ Who feign'd a dæmon.—Sertorius, who was invited by the Lusitanians to defend them against the Romans. He had a tame white hind, which he had accustomed to follow him, and from which he pretended to receive the instructions of Diana. By this artifice he imposed upon the superstition of that people.——Vid. PLUT.
