Thus fly the vanquish’d in their wild despair,
Chased, sever’d, scatter’d, o’er the ample ground.
But mightier bands, that lay in ambush there,
Burst on their flight; and hark! the deepening sound
Of fierce pursuit!—still nearer and more near,
The rush of war-steeds trampling in the rear.
The day is won! They fall—disarm’d they yield,
Low at the conqueror’s feet all suppliant lying!
Midst shouts of victory pealing o’er the field,
Ah! who may hear the murmurs of the dying?