Back the hero, full of fury, Sent a deep and mortal wound: Instant sunk the Renegado, Mute and lifeless on the ground. With a thousand Moors surrounded, Near him fighting, great Alonzo Furious press the hostile squadron, Loss of blood at length enfeebles: Who can war with thousands wage! Where yon rock the plain o'ershadows, Fainting, sunk the bleeding hero, AGAIN, the country was enclosed, a wide 55 'Twas open spread, to catch the morning sun, Of vigour palsied and of beauty stain'd; Her bloodshot eyes on her unheeding mate Were wrathful turn'd, and seem'd her wants to state, Cursing his tardy aid-her Mother there With gipsy-state engross'd the only chair; Solemn and dull her look; with such she stands Last in the group, the worn-out Grandsire sits, Useless, despis'd, his worthless labours done, Who half supports him; he with heavy glance To trace the progress of their future years: MARINE VIEWS. Be it the Summer-noon: a sandy space Light twinkling streams in bright confusion move; |