50 



But not so quick, on Apprehension's wings, 



The wretched miser from his pillow springs, 



Whose hoarded gold forbids his mind to rest, 



If doubtful noise the nightly thief suggest : 



Nor yet so hasty, tho' with terror wild, 



Flies the fond mother to her wounded child, 



Whose painful cry her shuddering soul alarms, 



As flew Lautaro at the sound of arms. 



His mantle rapidly around him roll'd. 



And, grasping a light sword with hasty hold, 



Too eager for his heavier arms to wait, 



'I'he fierce Barbarian hurried to the gate. 



O faithless Fortune ! thou deceitful friend ! 



Of thy false favours how severe the end ! 



How quick, thou cancell'st, when thy frown appears, 



Th' accumulated gifts of long triumphant years ! 



To aid the Spaniards in their bold emprize, 

 Four hundred Indians march'd, their firm allies, 

 Who on the left their line of battle close. 

 And haste to combat with their painted bows ; 

 Launching adroitly, in their rapid course, 

 IJnnumber'd arrows with unerring force. 

 As brave Lautaro issued from his tent, 

 A shaft to meet the sallying Chief was sent ; 

 Thro' his left side (ye valiant, mourn his lot !) 

 Flew the keen arrow, with such fury shot 

 It pierc'd his heart, the bravest and the best 

 That e'er was lodg'd within a human breast. 

 Proud of the stroke that laid such valour low, 

 Death ieem'd to glory in the im])ortant blow j 

 And that no Mortal might his triumph claim. 

 In darkness hid the doubtful Archer's name. 

 Such force the keen resistless weapon found, 

 Itstretch'd the mighty Chieftain on the ground, 

 And gave large outlet to his ardent blood. 

 That gush'd apace in a tumultuous flood. 

 From his sunk cheek its native colour fled ; 

 His sightless eyes roU'd in his ghastly head ; 

 His soul, that felt its glorious hopes o'erthrown, 

 Retir'd, indignant, to the worUl u^iknown. 



The noble savages, not dismayed by the death of their Leader, 

 continue to defend the fort with great fury. 



