Long unsubdu'd by stern Almagro's train,
Their valiant tribes unequal fight maintain;
Long victory hover'd doubtful o'er the field,
And oft she forc'd Iberia's band to yield; 30
Oft tore from Spain's proud head her laurel bough,
And bade it blossom on Peruvia's brow;
When sudden tidings reach'd Almagro's ear
That shook the warrior's soul with doubt and fear.
Of murder'd Ataliba's royal race 35
There yet remain'd a youth of blooming grace,
Who pin'd, the captive of relentless Spain,
And long in Cusco dragg'd her galling chain;
_Capac_ his name, whose soul indignant bears
The rankling fetters, and revenge prepares. 40
But since his daring spirit must forego
The hope to rush upon the tyrant foe,
Led by his parent orb, that gives the day,
And fierce as darts the keen, meridian ray,
He vows to bend unseen his hostile course, 45
Then on the victors rise with latent force,
As sudden from its cloud the brooding storm,
Bursts in the thunder's voice, the lightning's form--
For this, from stern Pizarro he obtains
The boon, enlarg'd, to seek the neighb'ring plains, 50
For one bless'd day, and with his friends unite
To crown with solemn pomp an ancient rite;
Share the dear pleasures of the social hour,
And mid' their fetters twine one festal flower.
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