For this, while fame thro’ each successive age
  On her exulting lip thy name shall breathe;
While woman, pointing to thy finish’d page,
  Claims from imperious man the critic wreathe;

Truth on her spotless record shall enroll
  Each moral beauty to her spirit dear;
Paint in bright characters each grace of soul—­
  While admiration pours a gen’rous tear.

HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS.

London, April the 24th, 1784.

ADVERTISEMENT.

That no readers of the following work may entertain expectations respecting it which it would ill satisfy, it is necessary to acquaint them, that the author has not had the presumption even to attempt a full, historical narration of the fall of the Peruvian empire.  To describe that important event with accuracy, and to display with clearness and force the various causes which combined to produce it, would require all the energy of genius, and the most glowing colours of imagination.  Conscious of her utter inability to execute such a design, she has only aimed at a simple detail of some few incidents that make a part of that romantic story; where the unparalleled sufferings of an innocent and amiable people, form the most affecting subjects of true pathos, while their climate, totally unlike our own, furnishes new and ample materials for poetic description.

THE ARGUMENT.

General description of the country of Peru, and of its animal, and vegetable productions—­the virtues of the people—­character of Ataliba, their Monarch—­his love for Alzira—­their nuptials celebrated—­ character of Zorai, her father—­descent of the genius of Peru—­ prediction of the fate of that empire.

PERU.

CANTO THE FIRST.

Where the pacific deep in silence laves
The western shore, with slow and languid waves,
There, lost Peruvia, rose thy cultur’d scene,
The wave an emblem of thy joy serene: 
There nature ever in luxuriant showers 5
Pours from her treasures, the perennial flowers;
In its dark foliage plum’d, the tow’ring pine
Ascends the mountain, at her call divine;
The palm’s wide leaf its brighter verdure spreads,
And the proud cedars bow their lofty heads; 10
The citron, and the glowing orange spring,
And on the gale a thousand odours fling;
The guava, and the soft ananas bloom,
The balsam ever drops a rich perfume: 
The bark, reviving shrub!  Oh not in vain 15
Thy rosy blossoms tinge Peruvia’s plain;
Ye fost’ring gales, around those blossoms blow,
Ye balmy dew-drops, o’er the tendrils flow. 
Lo, as the health-diffusing plant aspires,
Disease, and pain, and hov’ring death retires; 20