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No other signs of human step were trac'd ; 

 For the vcx'd land was desolate and waste. 

 Ilchanc'd that night the noble Chieftain prest 

 His anxious mistress to his gallant breast, 

 The fair Guacolda, for whose charms he burn'd, 

 And whose warm heart his faithful love leturn'd. 

 That night beheld the warlike savage rest, 

 Free from th' incumbrance of his martial vest : 

 That night alone allow'd his eyes to close 

 In the deceitful calm of short repose : 

 Sleep prest uponhim like the weight of death : 

 But soon he starts, alarm 'd, and gasps for breath. 

 The fair Guacolda, with a trembling tongue. 

 Anxious enquires from whence his anguish sprung. 



My lovely^ Fair ! the brave Lautaro cries, 

 An hideous vision struck my scornful eyes : 

 Methought that instant a fierce Chief of Spain 

 Mock'd my vain spear with insolent disdain ; 

 His forceful arm my failing powers o'ercame, 

 And strength and motion seem'd to quit my frame. 

 But still the vigour of my soul I keep, 

 And its keen anger burst the bonds of sleep. 



With quick despair, the troubled Fair one said, 

 Alas 1 thy dreams confirm the ills I dread. 

 'Tis come — the object of my boding fears ! 

 Thy end, the source of my unceasing tears. 

 Yet not so wretched is this mournful hour, 

 Nor o'er me, Fortune, canst thou boast such pow'r, 

 But that kind death may shorten all my woes, 

 And give the agonizing scene to close. 

 Let my stern fate its cruel rage employ. 

 And hurl me from the throne of love and joy ; 

 Whatever pangs its malice may devise. 

 It cannot rend affection's stronger ties. 

 Tho' horrible the blow my fears foresee, 

 A second blow will set my spirit free ; 

 For cold on earth thy frame shall ne'er be found. 

 While mine with useless being loads the ground. 



The Chief, transported with her tender charms, 

 Closely around her neck entwin'd his arms ; 

 And, while fond tears her snowy breast bedew'd, 

 Thus with redoubled love his speech pursu'd : 



