From wandering after his heritage
Lost once and lost for aye—and why that rage,
That deprecating glance? A new shape leant
On a familiar shape—gloatingly bent
O'er his discomfiture; 'mid wreaths it wore,
Still one outflamed the rest—her child's before
'T was Salinguerra's for his child: scorn, hate,
Rage now might startle her when all too late!
Then was the moment!—rival's foot had spurned
Hidden hitherto by Adelaide's policy.