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They guard the fertile lawns of Malabar.
Here, from the mountain to the surgy main, Fair as a garden, spreads the smiling plain: And lo, the empress of the Indian powers, Their lofty Calicut, resplendent towers; Hers ev'ry fragrance of the spicy sh.o.r.e, Hers ev'ry gem of India's countless store: Great Samoreem, her lord's imperial style, The mighty lord of India's utmost soil: To him the kings their duteous tribute pay, And, at his feet, confess their borrow'd sway.
Yet higher tower'd the monarchs ancients boast, Of old one sov'reign rul'd the s.p.a.cious coast.
A votive train, who brought the Koran's lore, (What time great Perimal the sceptre bore), From blest Arabia's groves to India came; Life were their words, their eloquence a flame Of holy zeal: fir'd by the powerful strain, The lofty monarch joins the faithful train, And vows, at fair Medina's[471] shrine, to close His life's mild eve in prayer, and sweet repose.
Gifts he prepares to deck the prophet's tomb, The glowing labours of the Indian loom, Orissa's spices, and Golconda's gems; Yet, e'er the fleet th' Arabian ocean stems, His final care his potent regions claim, Nor his the transport of a father's name: His servants, now, the regal purple wear, And, high enthron'd, the golden sceptres bear.
Proud Cochim one, and one fair Chale sways, The spicy isle another lord obeys; Coulam and Cananoor's luxurious fields, And Cranganore to various lords he yields.
While these, and others thus the monarch grac'd, A n.o.ble youth his care unmindful pa.s.s'd: Save Calicut, a city poor and small, Though lordly now, no more remain'd to fall: Griev'd to behold such merit thus repaid, The sapient youth the 'king of kings' he made, And, honour'd with the name, great Zamoreem, The lordly, t.i.tled boast of power supreme.
And now, great Perimal[472] resigns his reign, The blissful bowers of Paradise to gain: Before the gale his gaudy navy flies, And India sinks for ever from his eyes.
And soon to Calicut's commodious port The fleets, deep-edging with the wave, resort: Wide o'er the sh.o.r.e extend the warlike piles, And all the landscape round luxurious smiles.
And now, her flag to ev'ry gale unfurl'd, She towers, the empress of the eastern world: Such are the blessings sapient kings bestow, And from thy stream such gifts, O Commerce, flow.
"From that sage youth, who first reign'd 'king of kings,'
He now who sways the tribes of India springs.
Various the tribes, all led by fables vain, Their rites the dotage of the dreamful brain.
All, save where Nature whispers modest care, Naked, they blacken in the sultry air.
The haughty n.o.bles and the vulgar race Never must join the conjugal embrace; Nor may the stripling, nor the blooming maid, (Oh, lost to joy, by cruel rites betray'd!) To spouse of other than their father's art, At Love's connubial shrine unite the heart: Nor may their sons (the genius and the view Confin'd and fetter'd) other art pursue.
Vile were the stain, and deep the foul disgrace, Should other tribe touch one of n.o.ble race; A thousand rites, and was.h.i.+ngs o'er and o'er, Can scarce his tainted purity restore.
Poleas[473] the lab'ring lower clans are nam'd: By the proud Nayres the n.o.ble rank is claim'd; The toils of culture, and of art they scorn, The warrior's plumes their haughty brows adorn; The s.h.i.+ning falchion brandish'd in the right, Their left arm wields the target in the fight; Of danger scornful, ever arm'd they stand Around the king, a stern barbarian band.
Whate'er in India holds the sacred name Of piety or lore, the Brahmins claim: In wildest rituals, vain and painful, lost, Brahma,[474] their founder, as a G.o.d they boast.[475]
To crown their meal no meanest life expires, Pulse, fruit, and herbs alone their board requires: Alone, in lewdness riotous and free, No spousal ties withhold, and no degree: Lost to the heart-ties, to his neighbour's arms, The willing husband yields his spouse's charms: In unendear'd embraces free they blend; Yet, but the husband's kindred may ascend The nuptial couch: alas, too blest, they know } Nor jealousy's suspense, nor burning woe; } The bitter drops which oft from dear affection flow. } But, should my lips each wond'rous scene unfold, Which your glad eyes will soon amaz'd behold, Oh, long before the various tale could run, Deep in the west would sink yon eastern sun.
In few, all wealth from China to the Nile, All balsams, fruit, and gold on India's bosom smile."
While thus, the Moor his faithful tale reveal'd, Wide o'er the coast the voice of Rumour swell'd; As, first some upland vapour seems to float Small as the smoke of lonely shepherd cote, Soon o'er the dales the rolling darkness spreads, And wraps in hazy clouds the mountain heads, The leafless forest and the utmost lea; And wide its black wings hover o'er the sea: The tear-dropp'd bough hangs weeping in the vale, And distant navies rear the mist-wet sail.
So, Fame increasing, loud and louder grew, And to the sylvan camp resounding flew: "A lordly band," she cries, "of warlike mien, Of face and garb in India never seen, Of tongue unknown, through gulfs undar'd before, Unknown their aim, have reach'd the Indian sh.o.r.e."
To hail their chief the Indian lord prepares, And to the fleet he sends his banner'd Nayres: As to the bay the n.o.bles press along, The wond'ring city pours th' unnumber'd throng.
And now brave GAMA, and his splendid train, Himself adorn'd in all the pride of Spain, In gilded barges slowly bend to sh.o.r.e, While to the lute the gently falling oar Now, breaks the surges of the briny tide, And now, the strokes the cold fresh stream divide.
Pleas'd with the splendour of the Lusian band, On every bank the crowded thousands stand.
Begirt with, high-plum'd n.o.bles, by the flood The first great minister of India stood, The Catual[476] his name in India's tongue: To GAMA swift the lordly regent sprung; His open arms the valiant chief enfold, And now he lands him on the sh.o.r.e of gold: With pomp unwonted India's n.o.bles greet The fearless heroes of the warlike fleet.
A couch on shoulders borne, in India's mode, (With gold the canopy and purple glow'd), Receives the Lusian captain; equal rides The lordly catual, and onward guides, While GAMA'S train, and thousands of the throng Of India's sons, encircling, pour along.
To hold discourse in various tongues they try; In vain; the accents unremember'd die, Instant as utter'd. Thus, on Babel's plain Each builder heard his mate, and heard in vain.
GAMA the while, and India's second lord, Hold glad responses, as the various word The faithful Moor unfolds. The city gate They pa.s.s'd, and onward, tower'd in sumptuous state, Before them now the sacred temple rose; The portals wide the sculptur'd shrines disclose.
The chiefs advance, and, enter'd now, behold The G.o.ds of wood, cold stone, and s.h.i.+ning gold; Various of figure, and of various face, As the foul demon will'd the likeness base.
Taught to behold the rays of G.o.dhead s.h.i.+ne Fair imag'd in the human face divine, With sacred horror thrill'd, the Lusians view'd The monster forms, Chimera-like, and rude.[477]
Here, spreading horns a human visage bore, So, frown'd stern Jove in Lybia's fane of yore.
One body here two various faces rear'd; So, ancient Ja.n.u.s o'er his shrine appear'd.
A hundred arms another brandish'd wide; So, t.i.tan's son[478] the race of heaven defied.
And here, a dog his snarling tusks display'd; Anubis, thus in Memphis' hallow'd shade Grinn'd horrible. With vile prostrations low Before these shrines the blinded Indians bow.[479]
And now, again the splendid pomp proceeds; To India's lord the haughty regent leads.
To view the glorious leader of the fleet Increasing thousands swell o'er every street; High o'er the roofs the struggling youths ascend, The h.o.a.ry fathers o'er the portals bend, The windows sparkle with the glowing blaze Of female eyes, and mingling diamond's rays.
And now, the train with solemn state and slow, Approach the royal gate, through many a row Of fragrant wood-walks, and of balmy bowers, Radiant with fruitage, ever gay with flowers.
s.p.a.cious the dome its pillar'd grandeur spread, Nor to the burning day high tower'd the head; The citron groves around the windows glow'd, And branching palms their grateful shade bestow'd; The mellow light a pleasing radiance cast; The marble walls Daedalian sculpture grac'd Here India's fate,[480] from darkest times of old, The wondrous artist on the stone enroll'd; Here, o'er the meadows, by Hydaspes' stream, In fair array the marshall'd legions seem: A youth of gleeful eye the squadrons led, Smooth was his cheek, and glow'd with purest red: Around his spear the curling vine-leaves wav'd; And, by a streamlet of the river lav'd, Behind her founder, Nysa's walls were rear'd;[481]
So breathing life the ruddy G.o.d appear'd, Had Semele beheld the smiling boy,[482]
The mother's heart had proudly heav'd with joy.
Unnumber'd here, were seen th' a.s.syrian throng, That drank whole rivers as they march'd along: Each eye seem'd earnest on their warrior queen,[483]
High was her port, and furious was her mien; Her valour only equall'd by her l.u.s.t; Fast by her side her courser paw'd the dust, Her son's vile rival; reeking to the plain Fell the hot sweat-drops as he champ'd the rein.
And here display'd, most glorious to behold, The Grecian banners, op'ning many a fold, Seem'd trembling on the gale; at distance far The Ganges lav'd the wide-extended war.
Here, the blue marble gives the helmets' gleam; Here, from the cuira.s.s shoots the golden beam.
A proud-eyed youth, with palms unnumber'd gay, Of the bold veterans led the brown array; Scornful of mortal birth enshrin'd he rode, Call'd Jove his father,[484] and a.s.sum'd the G.o.d.
While dauntless GAMA and his train survey'd The sculptur'd walls, the lofty regent said: "For n.o.bler wars than these you wond'ring see That ample s.p.a.ce th' eternal fates decree: Sacred to these th' unpictur'd wall remains, Unconscious yet of vanquish'd India's chains.
a.s.sur'd we know the awful day shall come, Big with tremendous fate, and India's doom.
The sons of Brahma, by the G.o.d their sire Taught to illume the dread divining fire, From the drear mansions of the dark abodes Awake the dead, or call th' infernal G.o.ds; Then, round the flame, while glimm'ring ghastly blue, Behold the future scene arise to view.
The sons of Brahma, in the magic hour, Beheld the foreign foe tremendous lower; Unknown their tongue, their face, and strange attire, And their bold eye-b.a.l.l.s burn'd with warlike ire: They saw the chief o'er prostrate India rear The glitt'ring terrors of his awful spear.
But, swift behind these wint'ry days of woe A spring of joy arose in liveliest glow, Such gentle manners, leagued with wisdom, reign'd In the dread victors, and their rage restrain'd.
Beneath their sway majestic, wise, and mild, Proud of her victors' laws, thrice happier India smil'd.
So, to the prophets of the Brahmin train The visions rose, that never rose in vain."
The regent ceas'd; and now, with solemn pace, The chiefs approach the regal hall of grace.
The tap'stried walls with gold were pictur'd o'er, And flow'ry velvet spread the marble floor.[485]
In all the grandeur of the Indian state, High on a blazing couch, the monarch sat, With starry gems the purple curtains s.h.i.+n'd, And ruby flowers and golden foliage twin'd Around the silver pillars: high o'er head The golden canopy its radiance shed: Of cloth of gold the sov'reign's mantle shone, And, his high turban flam'd with precious stone Sublime and awful was his sapient mien, Lordly his posture, and his brow serene.
A h.o.a.ry sire, submiss on bended knee, (Low bow'd his head), in India's luxury, A leaf,[486] all fragrance to the glowing taste, Before the king each little while replac'd.
The patriarch Brahmin (soft and slow he rose), Advancing now, to lordly GAMA bows, And leads him to the throne; in silent state The monarch's nod a.s.signs the captain's seat; The Lusian train in humbler distance stand: Silent, the monarch eyes the foreign band With awful mien; when valiant GAMA broke The solemn pause, and thus majestic spoke:--
"From where the crimson sun of ev'ning laves His blazing chariot in the western waves, I come, the herald of a mighty king, And, holy vows of lasting friends.h.i.+p bring To thee, O monarch, for resounding Fame Far to the west has borne thy princely name; All India's sov'reign thou! Nor deem I sue, Great as thou art, the humble suppliant's due.
Whate'er from western Tagus to the Nile, Inspires the monarch's wish, the merchant's toil, From where the north-star gleams o'er seas of frost, To Ethiopia's utmost burning coast, Whate'er the sea, whate'er the land bestows, In my great monarch's realm unbounded flows.
Pleas'd thy high grandeur and renown to hear, My sov'reign offers friends.h.i.+p's bands sincere: Mutual he asks them, naked of disguise, Then, every bounty of the smiling skies Shower'd on his sh.o.r.e and thine, in mutual flow, Shall joyful Commerce on each sh.o.r.e bestow.
Our might in war, what vanquish'd nations fell Beneath our spear, let trembling Afric tell; Survey my floating towers, and let thine ear, Dread as it roars, our battle-thunder hear.
If friends.h.i.+p then thy honest wish explore, That dreadful thunder on thy foes shall roar.
Our banners o'er the crimson field shall sweep, And our tall navies ride the foamy deep, Till not a foe against thy land shall rear Th' invading bowsprit, or the hostile spear: My king, thy brother, thus thy wars shall join, The glory his, the gainful harvest thine."
Brave GAMA spake; the pagan king replies, "From lands which now behold the morning rise, While eve's dim clouds the Indian sky enfold, Glorious to us an offer'd league we hold.
Yet shall our will in silence rest unknown, Till what your land, and who the king you own, Our council deeply weigh. Let joy the while, And the glad feast, the fleeting hours beguile.
Ah! to the wearied mariner, long toss'd O'er briny waves, how sweet the long-sought coast!
The night now darkens; on the friendly sh.o.r.e Let soft repose your wearied strength restore, a.s.sur'd an answer from our lips to bear, Which, not displeas'd, your sov'reign lord shall hear.
More now we add not."[487] From the hall of state Withdrawn, they now approach the regent's gate; The sumptuous banquet glows; all India's pride Heap'd on the board the royal feast supplied.
Now, o'er the dew-drops of the eastern lawn Gleam'd the pale radiance of the star of dawn, The valiant GAMA on his couch repos'd, And balmy rest each Lusian eye-lid clos'd: When the high catual, watchful to fulfil The cautious mandates of his sov'reign's will, In secret converse with the Moor retires; And, earnest, much of Lusus' sons inquires; What laws, what holy rites, what monarch sway'd The warlike race? When thus the just Mozaide:--
"The land from whence these warriors well I know, (To neighb'ring earth my hapless birth I owe) Ill.u.s.trious Spain, along whose western sh.o.r.es Grey-dappled eve the dying twilight pours.-- A wondrous prophet gave their holy lore, The G.o.dlike seer a virgin mother bore, Th' Eternal Spirit on the human race (So be they taught) bestow'd such awful grace.
In war unmatch'd, they rear the trophied crest: What terrors oft have thrill'd my infant breast[488]
When their brave deeds my wond'ring fathers told; How from the lawns, where, crystalline and cold, The Guadiana rolls his murm'ring tide, And those where, purple by the Tago's side, The length'ning vineyards glisten o'er the field, Their warlike sires my routed sires expell'd: Nor paus'd their rage; the furious seas they brav'd, Nor loftiest walls, nor castled mountains saved; Round Afric's thousand bays their navies rode, And their proud armies o'er our armies trod.
Nor less, let Spain through all her kingdoms own, O'er other foes their dauntless valour shone: Let Gaul confess, her mountain-ramparts wild, Nature in vain the h.o.a.r Pyrenians pil'd.
No foreign lance could e'er their rage restrain, Unconquer'd still the warrior race remain.
More would you hear, secure your care may trust The answer of their lips, so n.o.bly just, Conscious of inward worth, of manners plain, Their manly souls the gilded lie disdain.
Then, let thine eyes their lordly might admire, And mark the thunder of their arms of fire: The sh.o.r.e, with trembling, hears the dreadful sound, And rampir'd walls lie smoking on the ground.
Speed to the fleet; their arts, their prudence weigh, How wise in peace, in war how dread, survey."
With keen desire the craftful pagan burn'd Soon as the morn in orient blaze return'd, To view the fleet his splendid train prepares; And now, attended by the lordly Nayres, The sh.o.r.e they cover, now the oarsmen sweep The foamy surface of the azure deep: And now, brave Paulus gives the friendly hand, And high on GAMA'S lofty deck they stand.
Bright to the day the purple sail-cloths glow, Wide to the gale the silken ensigns flow; The pictur'd flags display the warlike strife; Bold seem the heroes, as inspir'd by life.
Here, arm to arm, the single combat strains, Here, burns the combat on the tented plains General and fierce; the meeting lances thrust, And the black blood seems smoking on the dust.
With earnest eyes the wond'ring regent views The pictur'd warriors, and their history sues.
But now the ruddy juice, by Noah found,[489]
In foaming goblets circled swiftly round, And o'er the deck swift rose the festive board; Yet, smiling oft, refrains the Indian lord: His faith forbade with other tribe to join The sacred meal, esteem'd a rite divine.[490]
In bold vibrations, thrilling on the ear, The battle sounds the Lusian trumpets rear; Loud burst the thunders of the arms of fire, Slow round the sails the clouds of smoke aspire, And rolling their dark volumes o'er the day The Lusian war, in dreadful pomp, display.
In deepest thought the careful regent weigh'd The pomp and power at GAMA'S nod bewray'd; Yet, seem'd alone in wonder to behold The glorious heroes, and the wars half told In silent poesy.--Swift from the board High crown'd with wine, uprose the Indian lord; Both the bold GAMAS, and their gen'rous peer, The brave Coello, rose, prepar'd to hear Or, ever courteous, give the meet reply: Fix'd and inquiring was the regent's eye: The warlike image of a h.o.a.ry sire, Whose name shall live till earth and time expire, His wonder fix'd, and more than human glow'd The hero's look; his robes of Grecian mode; A bough, his ensign, in his right he wav'd, A leafy bough.--But I, fond man depraved!
Where would I speed, as madd'ning in a dream, Without your aid, ye Nymphs of Tago's stream!
Or yours, ye Dryads of Mondego's bowers!
Without your aid how vain my wearied powers!
Long yet, and various lies my arduous way Through low'ring tempests and a boundless sea.
Oh then, propitious hear your son implore, And guide my vessel to the happy sh.o.r.e.
Ah! see how long what perilous days, what woes On many a foreign coast around me rose, As, dragg'd by Fortune's chariot-wheels along, I sooth'd my sorrows with the warlike song:[491]