Garlands of brightest hue, with reddening fruit
Pendant, or clusters cool of glassy green.
So holding on o’er mountain and o’er vale,
Tagus they cross’d where midland on his way
The King of Rivers rolls his stately stream;
And rude Alverches wide and stony bed,
And Duero distant far, and many a stream
And many a field obscure, in future war
For bloody theatre of famous deeds
Foredoom’d; and deserts where in years to come