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

Burst in black thunder bellowing through the air.

A hissing bolt its flame terrific sped;

The cottage ruined lay—its peaceful inmates dead!

III.

Not fairer Hella on the Ægean flood

With her young brother sate the golden fleece,

Than Blanca steered her bark when Morton stood

Within its round, ’mid war discovering peace,

And from his eyes drank love-light without cease;