Alphonso's soul was mov'd--"No more, he cried,
"My hapless flame shall hearts like yours divide. 300
"Live, tender spirit, soft Aciloe, live,
"And all the wrongs of mad'ning rage forgive.
"Go from this desolated region far,
"These plains, where av'rice spreads the waste of war;
"Go, where pure pleasures gild the peaceful scene, 305
"Go where mild virtue sheds her ray serene."
In vain th' enraptur'd maid would now impart,
The rising joy that swells, that pains her heart;
Las Casas' feet in floods of tears she steeps,
Looks on her sire and smiles, then turns, and weeps; 310
Then smiles again, while her flush'd cheek, reveals
The mingled tumult of delight she feels.
So fall the crystal showers of fragrant spring,
And o'er the pure, clear sky, soft shadows fling;
Then paint the drooping clouds from which they flow 315
With the warm colours of the lucid bow.
Now, o'er the barren desert, Zamor leads
Aciloe, and her sire, to Chili's meads:
There, many a wand'ring wretch, condemn'd to roam
By hard oppression, found a shelt'ring home: 320
Zamor to pity, tun'd the vocal shell,
Bright'ning the tear of anguish, as it fell.
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