A brother’s love, and bear a sister’s name:
And e’en where now her lips in playful bliss
Sealed on Rosalvo’s eyes a balmy kiss,
Love’s highest, dearest grace she meant to show,
Nor thought he more could ask, nor she bestow.
III
From Goa’s precious sands to Lisbon’s shore.
The viceroy’s countless wealth that vessel bore:
In heaps there jewels lay of various dyes,
Ingots of gold, and pearls of wondrous size;