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

O’er crag and spray—their dainty flesh the food

Of vulture screaming fierce, and kite, and raven’s brood.

XXXIII.

“But weak the impulse, uncombined the assault;

Divisions, jealousies, our councils blight.

Too oft on Victory’s field our leaders halt,

And leave unplucked the fruit that gleams in sight:

Oh, that our men had Chiefs to lead them right.

In vain! France rallies through the land once more.