Iberia Won; A poem descriptive of the Peninsular War / With impressions from recent visits to the battle-grounds, and copious historical and illustrative notes

by T. M. Hughes

XLV.

What are thy mightiest triumphs? Pages torn

From bloodiest records. What thy phalanx armed?

Assassins. Thy parade of Conquest? Shorn

Of glare deceptive, plunder. Earth alarmed

Saw the career, that dazzled it and charmed,

Sunk in fell Tyranny. Thy potent rays,

Melting all fetters, might have millions warmed

With Freedom. Thou didst forge, to fiends’ amaze,

New shackles for thy kind. Let Hell eclipse thy blaze!