The flag they had trampled[852] in wrath.
Ah! brown Dolores, will no one hear,
And buy thy little store?
Now north,[853] now south,[854] on the old sea-wall,
But her pitiful tones unheeded fall;
Now east,[855] now west,[856] through the angry town,
Patient she journeys up and down,
Nor misses one surly door.
Then, desperate, up[857] to the dreaded ranks
She carries her passionate suit;