Two toilsome days the virtuous Inca strove To social life their savage minds to move; When the third morning glow'd serenely bright, He led their elders to an eastern height; The world unlimited beneath them lay, And not a cloud obscured the rising day. Vast Amazonia, starr'd with twinkling streams, In azure drest, a heaven inverted seems; Dim Paraguay extends the aching sight, Xaraya glimmers like the moon of night, Land, water, sky in blending borders play, And smile and brighten to the lamp of day. When thus the prince: What majesty divine! What robes of gold! what flames about him shine! There walks the God! his starry sons on high Draw their dim veil and shrink behind the sky; Earth with surrounding nature's born anew, And men by millions greet the glorious view! Who can behold his all-delighting soul Give life and joy, and heaven and earth control, Bid death and darkness from his presence move, Who can behold, and not adore and love? Those plains, immensely circling, feel his beams, He greens the groves, he silvers gay the streams, Swells the wild fruitage, gives the beast his food, And mute creation hails the genial God. But richer boons his righteous laws impart, To aid the life and mould the social heart, His arts of peace thro happy realms to spread, And altars grace with sacrificial bread; Such our distinguish'd lot, who own his sway, Mild as his morning stars and liberal as the day. His unknown laws, the mountain chief replied, May serve perchance your boasted race to guide; And yon low plains, that drink his partial ray, At his glad shrine their just devotions pay. But we nor fear his frown nor trust his smile; Vain as our prayers is every anxious toil; Our beasts are buried in his whirls of snow, Our cabins drifted to his slaves below. Even now his placid looks thy hopes beguile, He lures thy raptures with a morning smile; But soon (for so those saffron robes proclaim) His own black tempest shall obstruct his flame, Storm, thunder, fire, against the mountains driven, Rake deep their sulphur'd sides, disgorging here his heaven. He spoke; they waited, till the fervid ray High from the noontide shot the faithless day; When lo, far gathering under eastern skies, Solemn and slow, the dark red vapors rise; Full clouds, convolving on the turbid air, Move like an ocean to the watery war. The host, securely raised, no dangers harm, They sit unclouded and o'erlook the storm; While far beneath, the sky-borne waters ride, Veil the dark deep and sheet the mountain's side; The lightning's glancing fires, in fury curl'd, Bend their long forky foldings o'er the world; Torrents and broken crags and floods of rain From steep to steep roll down their force amain, In dreadful cataracts; the bolts confound The tumbling clouds, and rock the solid ground.