47 



Haste, I entreat thee, arm thy self with care, 

 And bid thy soldiers for defence prepare. 



The brave Barbarian quick reply 'd — 'Tis clear 

 How low niy powers arc rated by thy fear. 

 Canst thou so poorly of Lautaro deem ? 

 And is this arm so sunk in thy esteem ? 

 This arm, which, rescuing thy native earth, 

 So prodigally prov'd its valiant worth I 

 In my try*d courage how complete thy trust, 

 Whose terror weeps thy living lord as dust ! 



In thee, she cries, with confidence most pure, 

 My soul is satisfy'd, yet not secure. 

 What will thy arm avail in danger's course, 

 If my malignant fate has mightier force ? 

 But let the mis'ry I forebode arise ; 

 On this firm thought my constant love relies : 

 Tlie sword whose stroke our union may disjoin, 

 Will teach my faithful soul to follow thine. 

 Since my hard destiny, with rage severe. 

 Thus threatens me with all that love can fear ; 

 Since I am doom'd the worst of ills to see, 

 And lose all earthly good in losing thee ; 

 O ! suífer me to pass, ere death appears, 

 The little remnant of my life in tears ! 

 The heart that sinks not in distress like this, 

 Could never feel, could never merit bliss. 



Here from her eyes such ñoods of sorrow flow, 

 Compassion weeps in gazing on her woe I 

 The fond Lautaro, tho*of firmest power, 

 Sheds, as she speaks, a sympathetick shower. 

 But, to the tender scenes of love unus'd, 

 My artless pen, embarrass'd and confus'd, 

 From its sad task with diffidence withdraws. 

 And in its labour asks a little pause. 



CANTO XIV. 



WHAT erring wretch, to Truth and Beauty blind, 

 Shall dare to satirize the Female kind. 

 Since pure affection pr©mpts their anxious care. 

 Their lovely weakeess, and their fond despair ? 



