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Oh, thou dread sword, oft stain'd with heroes' gore,
Thou awful terror of the prostrate Moor,
What rage could aim thee at a female breast,
Unarm'd, by softness and by love possess'd!

— Luís de Camões Os Lusíadas (1572)

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War

More quotes by Luís de Camões

The moon, full orbed, forsakes her watery cave,
And lifts her lovely head above the wave...

Os Lusíadas (1572)

O foul disgrace, of knighthood lasting stain,
By men of arms a helpless lady slain!

Os Lusíadas (1572)

Cease all, whose actions ancient bards expressed:
A brighter valour rises in the West.

Os Lusíadas (1572)

My pen in this, my sword in that hand hold.

Os Lusíadas (1572)

Go, gentle spirit! now supremely blest,
From scenes of pain and struggling virtue go:
From thy immortal seat of heavenly rest
Behold us lingering in a world of woe!

All Luís de Camões quotes →

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Luís de Camões (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.