To show how swift can ruffians armed destroy.
Thy treasures, San Sebastian, a decoy,
Thy household gods are shivered into dust!
Nor yet upon thy fell invaders cloy
Barbarian violence and Rapine’s lust.
The thunder-storm hath ceased—but, Heaven, thy arm is just!
XLIII.
“Thou wilt not go—thou wilt not, Carlos, leave
“Thy Isidora’s side—thy life expose.
“What boots their plunder? ’Tis for thee I grieve,