But, lo! where bursting desolation's night, A sudden ray of glory cheers my sight; 320 From my fond eye the tear of rapture flows, My heart with pure delight exulting glows: A blooming chief of India's royal race, Whose soaring soul, its high descent can trace, The flag of freedom rears on Chili's[D] plain, 325 And leads to glorious strife his gen'rous train: And see Iberia bleeds! while vict'ry twines Her fairest blossoms round Peruvia's shrines; The gaping wounds of earth disclose no more The lucid silver, and the glowing ore; 330 A brighter glory gilds the passing hour, While freedom breaks the rod of lawless power: Lo on the Andes' icy steep she glows, And prints with rapid step th' eternal snows; Or moves majestic o'er the desert plain, 335 And eloquently pours her potent strain. Still may that strain the patriot's soul inspire, And still this injur'd race her spirit fire. O Freedom, may thy genius still ascend, Beneath thy crest may proud Iberia bend; 340 While roll'd in dust thy graceful feet beneath, Fades the dark laurel of her sanguine wreath; Bend her red trophies, tear her victor plume, And close insatiate slaughter's yawning tomb. Again on soft Peruvia's fragrant breast 345 May beauty blossom, and may pleasure rest. Peru, the muse that vainly mourn'd thy woes, Whom pity robb'd so long of dear repose; The muse, whose pensive soul with anguish wrung Her early lyre for thee has trembling strung; 350 Shed the weak tear, and breath'd the powerless sigh, Which soon in cold oblivion's shade must die; Pants with the wish thy deeds may rise to fame, Bright on some living harp's immortal frame! While on the string of extasy, it pours 355 Thy future triumphs o'er unnumber'd shores.