IX.
He thinks not of them:—From that height
He views the scene of future fight,
And, silent and serene, surveys,
Down to the plain where Teio strays,
The woods, the streams, the mountain ways,
Each dell and sylvan hold:
Prescient of all the war, he knows
On wing or center, where the foes
May pour their fury most;
And marks what portion of the field
To their advance ’twere good to yield,
And what must not be lost.
And all his gallant chiefs around
Observant watch, where o’er the ground
His eagle glance has rolled.
Few words he spake, or needed they,
Of counsel for the approaching fray,
Where to condense the loose array,
Or where the line unfold:
They saw, they felt what he would say,
And the best order of the day,
It was his eye that told.