The prince incautious with his men drew near, Known for an Inca by his dress and air; Till coop'd and caught amid the warrior trains, They bow in silence to the victor's chains. When now the gather'd thousands throng the plain, And echoing skies the rending shouts retain; Zamor, the chieftain of the Tiger-band, By choice appointed to the first command, Shrugg'd up his brinded spoils above the rest, And grimly frowning thus the crowd addrest: Warriors, attend! tomorrow leads abroad Our sacred vengeance for our brothers' blood. On those scorch'd plains for ever must they lie, Their bones still naked to the burning sky? Left in the field for foreign hawks to tear, Nor our own vultures can the banquet share. But soon, ye mountain gods, yon dreary west Shall sate your hunger with an ampler feast; When the proud Sun, that terror of the plain, Shall grieve in heaven for all his children slain, As o'er his realm our slaughtering armies roam, And give to your sad Powers a happier home. Meanwhile, ye tribes, these men of solar race, Food for the flames, your bloody rites shall grace; Each to a different god his panting breath Resigns in fire; this night demands their death: All but the Inca; him reserved in state These conquering hands ere long shall immolate To all the Powers at once that storm the skies, A grateful gift, before his mother's eyes. The sachem ceased; the chiefs of every race Lead the bold captives to their destined place; The sun descends, the parting day expires, And earth and heaven display their sparkling fires. Soon the raised altars kindle round the gloom, And call the victims to their vengeful doom; Led to their pyres, in sullen pomp they tread, And sing by turns the triumphs of the dead. Amid the crowd beside his altar stood The youth devoted to the Tiger-god; A beauteous form he rose, of noble grace, The only hope of his illustrious race. His aged sire, for numerous years, had shone The first supporter of the Incan throne; Wise Capac loved the youth, and graced his hand With a fair virgin from a neighboring band; And him the legate prince, in equal prime, Had chose to share his mission round the clime. He mounts the pyre, the flames approach his breath. And thus he wakes the dauntless song of death: