Poems, from the Portuguese of Luis De Camoens: with Remarks on His Life and Writings, Notes, &c., &c., by Lord Viscount Strangford, published by Kid & Thomas, printed by Robert Carr, Baltimore, MD, 1808 — 129 pages — no illustrations — poems translated into English.

Note: Percy Clinton Sydney Smythe was the 6th Lord Viscount Strangford of Ireland

Poem first lines:

• Canst Thou forget the silent tears
• Why art thou cloth'd in sad array
• The heart that warm'd my guileless breast
• Pr'ythee, Cupid, hence — desist —
• Flow'rs are fresh, and bushes green
• I whisper'd her my last adieu
• Just like Love is yonder rose
• I saw the virtuous man contend
• Spring in gay and frolic hour
• When day has smil'd a soft farewell
• Strange is the pow'r of thought — oft Memory seems
• Dear is the blush of early light
• The simple youth who trusts the fair
• Thou hast an eye of tender blue
• Yes — labour, love! and toil would please
• O weep not thus — we both shall know
• When I am done to death by thee
• Lady! when with glad surprise
• Should I but live a little more
• Night! to thee my vows are paid
• Thou pride of the forest! whose dark branches spread
• How sprightly were the roundelays
• Why should I indiscreetly tell
• When the girl of my heart is on perjury bent
• When that sweet bard, to whose harmonious hand
• Since in this dreary vale of tears
• I met Love wand'ring o'er the wild
• Dear Ines, wouldst thou but believe
• Sweetly was heard the anthem's choral strain
• While on the margin of his native shores
• Eustace! or when you wield the ponderous spear
• Slowly and heavily the time has run
• Till Lovers' tears at parting cease to flow
• My senses lost, misjudging men declare
• When from my heart the hand of Fortune tore
• Mondego! thou, whose waters cold and clear
• Lives there a wretch, who would profanely dare
• Come, tell me, fairest, from what orient mine
• What time the liberal Muses deign'd to show'r
• Dear lost Antonio! whilst I yet deplore
• Silent and cool, now fresh'ning breezes blow
• My best-belov'd! — although unpitying skies
• I sang of love — and in so sweet a strain
• If those fam'd charms which grace the Tuscan fair
• From sorrow free, and tears, and dull despair
• Dear band, which once adorn'd my worshipp'd fair
• O Lopez! yesterday the stars were kind
• Those charming eyes, within whose starry sphere
• Within my bosom's cell I bear
• Meantime as thus below the murmuring deeps