Musing on Isabel, poor lorn and fluttering dove!
XVIII.
The youth looked up: by outward posts defended
And star-redoubts he saw the Bayonnette;
The Commissari with that mountain blended
Was girt with abatís incessant met.
He thought those bulwarks would be England’s yet!
A gulf profound with skirmishers was filled,
And thickest woods where marksmen keen were set.