And raised barbarian nations o’er their head,
The inflexible, the fierce, who seek not gold,
But vengeance on their foes, relentless, uncontroll’d.
Then was the sword let loose, the flaming sword
Of the strong infidel’s ignoble hand,
Amidst that host, the pride, the flower, the crown
Of thy fair knighthood; and the insatiate horde,
Not with thy life content, O ruin’d land!
Sad Lusitania! even thy bright renown
Defaced and trampled down;