Affection sees new lustre light the eye,
And feels her vanish’d joys again are nigh. 
The Pacos[A], and Vicunnas[B] sport around,
And the meek Lamas[C], burden’d, press the ground. 
Amid the vocal groves, the feather’d throng 25
Pour to the list’ning breeze their native song;
The mocking-bird her varying note essays,
The vain macaw his glitt’ring plume displays. 
While spring’s warm ray the mild suffusion sheds,
The plaintive humming-bird his pinion spreads; 30
His wings their colours to the sun unfold,
The vivid scarlet, and the blazing gold;
He sees the flower which morning tears bedew,
Sinks on its breast, and drinks th’ ambrosial dew: 
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