Rear the black sign, and fill th' allotted post.
In heavy columns troops lethargic sound.
Flap their huge banners, throw their opiates round,
Fierce o'er the field conflagrant squadrons bend,
And fiery fevers thro' the regions send.
While from moist clouds, brooding o'er desarts bare,
Where Zambre's stagnant lake pollutes the air,
Press frigid agues in th' alternate row,
And give their chill variety to woe.
But chief—the multitude that crowds the field,