"Oh think not, when in thee alone I live, 85
"This breast can bear the pain thy dangers give,
"Look on our helpless babe in mis'ry nurst--
"My child--my child, thy mother's heart will burst!
"Methinks I see the raging battle rise,
"And hear this harmless suff'rer's feeble cries; 90
"I view the blades that pour a sanguine flood,
"And plunge their cruel edge in infant blood."--
She could no more; her falt'ring accents die,
Yet her soul spoke expressive in her eye;
Her lord beholds her grief, with tender pain, 95
And leads her breathless, to a shelt'ring fane.
Now high in air his feather'd standard waves,
And soon from shrouding woods, and hollow caves,
A num'rous host along the plain appear,
And hail their monarch with a gen'rous tear: 100
To Cusco's gate now rush th' increasing throngs,
And such their ardor, rouz'd by sense of wrongs,
That vainly would Pizarro's vet'ran force
Arrest the torrent in its raging course;
In vain his murd'ring bands terrific stood, 105
And plung'd their sabres in a sea of blood;
Danger and death Peruvia's sons disdain,
And half their captive city soon regain.
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