CXCV.

An allegory illustrating the disordered state in which the poet appears to have found his country.

HE waters of this river turbid flow,

Disturbed by those of mountain and of sky;
The verdant meadows all are parched and dry,
In the cold valley nothing now will grow.
Past is the summer and its ardent glow;
Some things for other things are all gone by;
The treacherous fates have ceased their perfidy
In the world's craziness or rule to show.
Time hath its order regularly known,

Not so the world, which so confused doth roll,
That God thereof would all forgetful seem:
Nature, opinions, use, events, the whole
Combine to make us feel the life we own
Is really nothing other than a dream.

Off Madeira to Lisbon, July 1880.

CCIII.

A umas senhoras, talvez do Paço, que habitavam alguma quinta do campo.

E frescas belvederes rodeadas

DE

Estam as puras águas desta fonte ; Formosas nymphas lhes estão defronte, A vencer e a matar acostumadas.

Andam contra Cupido levantadas

As suas graças, que não ha quem conte:
D'outro valle esquecidas, d'outro monte,
A vida passam neste socegadas.
O seu poder juntou, sua valia

Amor, ja não soffrendo este desprêzo,
Sómente por se vêr dellas vingado;
Mas, vendo-as, entendeo que não podia
De ser morto livrar-se, ou de ser prêzo,
E ficou-se com ellas desarmado.

ССІІІ.

In honour of some fair ladies, perhaps of the Court, who were living in some country house and garden.

Y landscape-scenes surrounded, fresh and gay,

BY

Lie the pure waters of this purest fount; Whose margins lovely nymphs to court are wont, Accustomed or to conquer or to slay.

'Gainst Cupid, all rebellious, they display Graces no mortal ere availed to count;

Forgetting other valley, other mount,

All calmly here they pass their life away.

Love summoned all his power and valiant mood,

Resolved no longer to endure this slight,

And that on all his vengeance should be dealt.

But, seeing them, he quickly understood

That death or prison must reward his fight,
And thus among them, all disarmed, he dwelt.

CAIRO, February 1880.

CCXXVII.

Ao Duque de Bragança, D. Theodosio.

EVANTAI, minhas Tagides, a frente,

LEV

Deixando o Tejo ás sombras nemorosas;
Dourai o valle umbroso, as frescas rosas,
E o monte com as árvores frondente.
Fique de vós hum pouco o rio ausente,
Cessem agora as lyras numerosas,

Cesse vosso lavor, nymphas formosas,
Cesse da fonte vossa a grã corrente.
Vinde a vêr a Theodosio grande e claro,
A quem 'stá offerecendo maior canto
Na cithara dourada o louro Apollo.
Minerva do saber dá-lhe o dom raro,
Pallas lhe dá o valor de mais espanto,
E a Fama o leva ja de polo a polo.

CCXXVII.

To the Duke of Bragança, Dom Theodosio.

XALT on high your brow, my Tagides, [flow,

Ex

Leave Tagus through his sylvan shades to Gild the cool vales where fresh blown roses glow, And mountain verdant with o'ershadowing trees. Let one short absence from your river please; Consent, ye lovely nymphs, aside to throw Your numerous lyres, for once your toils forego, Let the great current of your fountain cease. Come see great Theodosius, warrior fair, To whom upon his golden lyre of praise Flaxen Apollo proffers music's soul. Minerva grants him gift of wisdom rare, Pallas gives valour, more than to amaze, And Fame his glory blows from pole to pole.

:SUEZ, March 1880.