Great Arthur now begins his great emprize;
Where Bidasóa’s stream impetuous runs,
Resolved to pass though strenuous Soult defies.
And while the thunder-storm doth lash the skies,
His dread artillery’s ranged on Marcial’s flanks.
O’er the tall crest doth many a cannon rise;
His columns line the Bidasóa’s banks,
In silence poured along, and form their warlike ranks.
VII.
Full many a howitzer by fair Irún,