XXIV.
“In every street are rival batteries placed.
Entrenched behind a bulwark of the slain,
See where yon Zaragozan death has faced,
Resolved a cannon of the Frank to gain.
’Neath corse-heaped covert he hath passed a chain
Round the huge gun—its end his comrades take—
Their lusty sinews pull with might and main—
The monster moves—but, ah, the chain doth break;
Yet soon as Night doth fall the prize their own they make.