And how of his great army
A paltry little band
In hopeless rout
Had turned about
And fled to their own land.
Quick, at the cry of herald
And clattering of hoof,
From door and wall and window,
From balcony and roof,
Black hung the crowd; with praises
And how of his great army
A paltry little band
In hopeless rout
Had turned about
And fled to their own land.
Quick, at the cry of herald
And clattering of hoof,
From door and wall and window,
From balcony and roof,
Black hung the crowd; with praises