In vain Peruvia's chiefs undaunted stood,
Shield their lov'd prince, and bathe his robes in blood;
Touch'd with heroic ardor, rush around,
And high of soul, receive each fatal wound: 40
Dragg'd from his throne, and hurry'd o'er the plain,
The wretched monarch swells the captive train;
With iron grasp, the frantic prince they bear,
And bless the omen of his wild despair.
Deep in the gloomy dungeon's lone domain, 45
Lost Ataliba wore the galling chain;
The earth's cold bed refus'd oblivious rest,
While throb'd the pains of thousands at his breast;
Alzira's desolating moan he hears,
And with the monarch's, blends the lover's tears-- 50
Soon had Alzira felt affliction's dart
Pierce her soft soul, and rend her bleeding heart;
Its quick pulsations paus'd, and, chill'd with dread,
A livid hue her fading cheek o'erspread;
No tear she gave to love, she breath'd no sigh, 55
Her lips were mute, and clos'd her languid eye;
Fainter, and slower heav'd her shiv'ring breast,
And her calm'd passions seem'd in death to rest!--
At length reviv'd, mid rising heaps of slain
She prest with trembling step, the crimson plain; 60
The dungeon's gloomy depth she fearless sought,
For love, with scorn of danger arm'd her thought:
The cell that holds her captive lord she gains,
Her tears fall quiv'ring on a lover's chains!
Too tender spirit, check the filial tear, 65
A sympathy more soft, a tie more dear
Shall claim the drops that frantic passion sheds,
When the rude storm its darkest pinion spreads.
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