Of hostile trumpets, foremost for the land,
And in some rock defile, or savage dell,
Array her peasant children to repel
Th’ invader, sending arrows for his chains!
Ay, one to fold around him, as he fell,
Her banner with a smile—for through his veins
The joy of danger flow’d, as torrents to the plains.
XX.
There was at times a wildness in the light
Of his quick-flashing eye; a something born