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

Dense clouds of smoke o’er all the works ascended.

Sharp rang the musket, active played its lance.

But soon the mass of French and English blended

Emerged, while British cheers proclaimed the conflict ended.

XXVI.

Up, up the crags the rapid Frenchman flies,

The powerful Briton following in his trail,

Till new intrenchment, new redoubts, arise.

Once more they stand—once more our troops assail

Their abatís, till France again doth quail.