XXXVII.

“Where were thy men--where, Lusitain, were they? Entranced, appalled--with none to lead or guide. Thy coward Princes fled like hinds away-- Thy caitiff Nobles crost the Ocean-tide. No sword in the Invader’s blood was dyed! Thy Chiefs and Patriarchs basely kist the rod; Thy sacred banner of Saint George the pride, Torn from his castled height o’erspread the sod, And Priests profane declared thy conquerors sent by God!