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No hint in books, no coarse or doubtful phrase 



E'er bade her curious thought explore the maze 



No glowing dream by memory's pencil drawn 



Had e'er profaned her sleep, and made her blush at dawn. 



With flowers she decked the virgin mother's shrine, 



Nor guessed a wonder made that name divine. 



The very love, which lent her looks such fire, 



Ne'er raised one blameful thought, nor loose desire ; 



Like streams of gold, which in alembic roll, 



The flames she suffered but refined her soul ; 



Made it more free from stain, more light from dross, 



With brighter lustre, and with softer gloss. 



That, which she bore her bridegroom, well might claim 



A brother's love, and bear a sister's name : 



And e'en where now her lips in playful bliss 



Sealed on Rosalvo's eyes a balmy kiss, 



Love's highest, dearest grace she meant to show, 



Nor thought he more could ask, nor she bestow. 



III. 



From Goa's precious sands to Lisbon's shore. 

 The viceroy's countless wealth that vessel bore : 

 In heaps there jew r els lay of various dyes, 

 Ingots of gold, and pearls of wondrous size ; 

 And there (two gems worth all that Cortez won) 

 He placed his angel niece and only son. 

 Sebastian sought the Moors ! With loyal zeal 

 Rosalvo cased his youthful limbs in steel ; 

 To die or conquer by his sovereign's side 

 He came ; and with him came his destined bride. 

 E'en now in Lisbon's court for Irza's hair 

 Virgins the myrtle's nuptial crown prepare, 

 And Hymen waves his torch from Cintra's towers. 

 Hails the dull bark, and chides the slow-winged hours. 



Seldom in this bad world two hearts we see 

 So blest, and meriting so blest to be ; 



