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

Rough Haya’s slopes the active foemen scale.

But Inglis’ columns now the skirmish join,

And soon Clausel is on the English trail.

’Mid Haya’s dells and lofty ridges shine

For many an hour their fires along each broken line.

XIX.

Joy! joy! the battle to the Frenchward side

Is proudly borne, and pass Kempt’s rifles keen

O’er Bidasoa’s stream, where swift they glide,

In modest garments all of darkest green—