Which seals Numantia's doom, begins to lower;
The stars have willed it so, and well I fear
No means remain to change a fate so drear.
Minuesa, Tera, Orvion as well,
Whose floods increase the volume of mine own,
Have caused my bosom so to rise and swell
That all its ancient banks are overflown.
But my swift current will not break their spell,
As if I were a brook, their pride has grown
To do what thou, O Spain, didst never dream,