[after]wards, were bishops at [in] Congo. extracted from Faria y Sousa.
’Twas now the solemn hour when midnight reigns,
And dimly twinkling o’er the eternal plains
The starry host, by gloomy silence led,
O’er earth and sea a glimmering paleness shed;
When to the feet, which hemm’d with dangers lay,
The silver-wing’d Cyllenius darts away.
Each care was now in soft oblivion steep’d,
The watch alone accustom’d virgils kept;
E’en Gama, wearied by the days alarms,
Forgets his cares, reclined in slumber’s arms.
Scarce had he closed his careful eyes in rest,
When Maia’s son in vision stood contest:
And fly, he cried, O Lusitanian, fly;
Here guile and treason every nerve apply:
[An impious king for thee the toil prepares,]
An impious people weave a thousand snares