Without a struggle, by my wits alone.
The occasion comes, I seize it as my due,
For when it flits and runs, and once hath flown,
Full well I know in war we pay the cost,
Our credit vanishes, and life is lost.
It may be judged a foolish, monstrous thing,
To hold our enemies beleaguered there;
That shame on Roman chivalry we bring,
By using arts of conquest strange and rare.
If such be said, then to this hope I cling,