The hero’s soul—almost a tear he sheds,
For ominous boding and profound he dreads
The noble city’s fall. Yet firm he stands,
And menacing the foe his phalanx treads
San Marcial’s sides, where still their blazing brands
And glittering points of steel are swayed by sturdy hands.
XXIII.
And now the direful storm that fell when San
Sebastian’s scarp was won the battle palls.
The tempest louder shouts than warring man;