Then seeks with fond delight the social nest 35 Parental care has rear'd, and love has blest: The drops that on the blossom's light leaf hung, He bears exulting to his tender young; The grateful joy his happy accents prove, Is nature, smiling on her works of love. 40 Nor less, Peruvia, for thy favour'd clime The virtues rose, unsullied, and sublime: There melting charity, with ardor warm, Spread her wide mantle o'er th' unshelter'd form; Cheer'd with the festal song, her lib'ral toils, 45 While in the lap of age[D] she pour'd the spoils. Simplicity in every vale was found, The meek nymph smil'd, with reeds, and rushes crown'd; And innocence in light, transparent vest, Mild visitant! the gentle region blest: 50 As from her lip enchanting accents part, They thrill with pleasure the reponsive heart; And o'er the ever-blooming vales around, Soft echoes waft each undulating sound. This happy region _Ataliba_ sway'd, 55 Whose mild behest the willing heart obey'd; Descendant of a scepter'd, sacred race, Whose origin from glowing suns they trace; And as o'er nature's form, the solar light Diffuses beauty, and inspires delight; 60 So, o'er Peruvia flow'd the lib'ral ray Of mercy, lovelier than the smile of day! In Ataliba's pure and gen'rous heart The virtues bloom'd without the aid of art. His gentle spirit, love's soft power possest, 65 And stamp'd Alzira's image on his breast; Alzira, form'd each tenderness to prove, That sooths in friendship, and that charms in love. But, ah! in vain the drooping muse would paint (Her accents languid, and her colours faint,) 70 How dear the joys love's early wishes sought, How mild his spirit, and how pure his thought, Ere wealth in sullen pomp was seen to rise, And break the artless bosom's holy ties; Blast with his touch affection's op'ning flower, 75 And chill the hand that rear'd her blissful bower. Fortune, light nymph! still bless the sordid heart, Still to thy venal slave thy gifts impart; Bright in his view may all thy meteors shine, And lost Peruvia open every mine; 80 For him the robe of eastern pomp display, The gems that ripen in the torrid ray; Collected may their guilty lustre stream Full on the eye that courts the partial beam: But Love, oh Love! should haply this late hour, 85 One softer mind avow thy genuine power; Breathe at thy altar nature's simple strain, And strew the heart's pure incense on thy fane; Give to that bosom scorning fortune's toys, Thy sweet enchantments, and thy virtuous joys; 90 Bid pleasure bloom thro' many a circling year, Which love shall wing, and constancy endear; Far from this happy clime avert the woes, The heart from alienated fondness knows;