The trenches deepened ere the night was gone;
Antigua’s rocks with thunder bristling tell
The bold besieged how other bosoms swell
With warlike pride that pants for battle’s hour;
And comes the ponderous train of cannon fell
To try the strength of bastion, scarp, and tower,
And bid the boastful Gaul beware Britannia’s power!
IV.
Say, is, not death then terrible enough,
Ye Captains fierce, but ye must point his dart?