With dreadful bellowing rushes on the foe,
And lays the boastful gaudy champion low.
Thus to the sight the sons of Lusus sprung,
Nor slow to fall their ample vengeance hung:
With sudden roar the carabines resound,
And bursting echoes from the hills rebound;
The lead flies hissing through the trembling air,
And death's fell dæmons through the flashes glare.
Where, up the land, a grove of palms enclose,
And cast their shadows where the fountain flows,
The lurking ambush from their treacherous stand
Beheld the combat burning on the strand:
They see the flash with sudden lightnings flare,
And the blue smoke slow rolling on the air:
They see their warriors drop, and starting, hear
The lingering thunders bursting on their ear.
Amazed, appall'd, the treacherous ambush fled,
And raged,[1] and curst their birth, and quaked with dread.
The bands that vaunting show'd their threaten'd might,
With slaughter gored, precipitate in flight;
Yet oft, though trembling, on the foe they turn
Their eyes, that red with lust of vengeance burn:
Aghast with fear and stern with desperate rage
The flying war with dreadful howls they wage,
Flints,
- ↑
——————e maldizia
O velho inerte, e a māy, que o filho cria.
Thus translated by Fanshaw,
—————————curst their ill luck,
Th' old devil, and the dam that gave them suck.
