“No voice, as erst, shall in the desert rise;[3] Nor antient, dread solemnities With scorn of death the trembling tribes inspire. Wreaths for the Conqueror’s brow the victims bind! Yet, tho’ we fled yon firmament of fire, Still shall we fly, all hope of rule resign’d?” * * * * * * * * * * He spoke; and all was silence, all was night![r] Each had already wing’d his formidable flight. [1] Gods, yet confess’d later.—Milton.——Ils ne laissent pas d’en être les esclaves, & de les honorer plus que le grand Esprit, qui de sa nature est bon.—Lafitau. [2] La plûpart de ces îsles ne sont en effet que des pointes de montagnes; et la mer, qui est au-delà, est une vraie mer Méditerranée. Buffon. [3] Alluding to the oracles of the Islanders, so soon to become silent: and particularly to a prophecy, delivered down from their ancestors, and sung with loud lamentations (Petr. Martyr, dec. 3. lib. 7) at their solemn festivals (Herrera. I. iii. 4) that the country would be laid waste on the arrival of strangers, completely clad, from a region near the rising of the sun. Ibid. II. S. 2. It is said that Cazziva, a great Cacique, after long fasting and many ablutions, had an interview with one of the Zemi, who announced to him this terrible event (F. Columbus, c. 62), as the oracle of Latona, according to Herodotus (II. 152) predicted the overthrow of eleven kings in Egypt, on the appearance of men of brass, risen out of the sea. Nor did this prophecy exist among the Islanders alone. It influenced the councils of Montezuma, and extended almost universally over the forests of America. Cortes. Herrera. Gomara. ‘The demons, whom they worshipped,’ says Acosta, ‘in this instance told them the truth.’ CANTO IV. The Voyage continued. “Ah, why look back, tho’ all is left behind? No sounds of life are stirring in the wind.— And you, ye birds, winging your passage home, How blest ye are!—We know not where we roam, We go,” they cried, “go to return no more; Nor ours, alas, the transport to explore A human footstep on a desert shore!”