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

Nor least for Morton, first ’mid War’s alarms

To prove the patriot glow the Briton’s heart that warms.

XXXVIII.

Still roars the thunder-storm—Day wears the gloom

Of Night’s black canopy, and wears it well.

That pall o’erspreads more horrors than the tomb;

Beneath its folds are done the deeds of Hell!

And chiefs who seek the demon strife to quell

Are slaughtered by their men. Drunk volunteers,

Mad soldiers, vile camp-followers, knaves who swell