If the contended field we bravely fought,
And not a bloodless victory was bought;
Their losses equalled ours; and, for their slain,
With equal fires they filled the shining plain;
Why thus, unforced, should we so tamely yield,
And, ere the trumpet sounds, resign the field?
Good unexpected, evils unforeseen,
Appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene.
Some, raised aloft, come tumbling down amain;
Then fall so hard, they bound and rise again.