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

But shriek and shout and yell, cry, curse, and groan,

Make music dire to rend the bosom’s core,

And louder than Man’s thunder rolled before

Comes Heaven’s artillery from the mountains down,

Dark, stormy, terrible: leap lightnings o’er

The murky cope to mark the Almighty’s frown

For deeds of carnage done in that devoted town.

XXIV.

What careth Man red-handed for His wrath?

What bellowing beast so terrible as he,