And the square boss of metal bring,
That circling boughs entwine
With laurels, in whose leaves of gold
The clustered emeralds shine.
Adonis, hastening to the hunt,
His heavenly mistress shuns,
The mountain boars before him flee,
And, 'Die,' the motto runs."
'Twas thus the Moor Azarco spoke,
Just as the war begun,