Water spout of clinking iron;
They fly, the heavy horsemen!
Haste! haste! to the rescue!
The bridge rises.... Send the spur
Into the chargers’ bloody flanks.
The bridge rises: The town is lost!
“They are before it. Is it too late?
Ride like the wind! Bridle loose!
Guitoy de Chaumont on his Spanish steed
Leaps on the bridge that falls again.