human
O Portugal! whene'er I see thy name What proud emotions rise within my breast! To _thee_ I owe--from _thee_ derive that fame Which here may linger when I lie at rest. When as a youth I landed on thy shore, How little did I think I e'er could be Worthy the honours thou has giv'n to me; And when the coming storm I did deplore, Drove me far from thee by its hostile threat-- With feelings which can never be effaced, I learn'd to commune with those writers old Who had the deeds of they great chieftains told; Departed bards in converse sweet I met, I'd seen where they had liv'd--the land Camoens grac'd.