Tagus, farewell! that westward with thy streams Turns up the grains of gold already tried With spur and sail, for I go seek the Thames Gainward the sun that shewth her wealthy pride, And to the town which Brutus sought by dreams, Like bended moon doth lend her lusty side. My king, my country, alone for whome I live, Of mighty love the wings for this me give.

aurea qui, Tage, grana probas et flumine versas, qui petis occasum solis, Ibere, vale: namque peto Tamesim velo et calcare profectus; ad solem tendens ille superbit ope, et permit exsultans quam somnis quaesiit urbem Brutus, ut incurvat luna bicorne latus. vos lux una meaea princeps et patria vitae, ingenti hinc per vos ales amore feror.