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

The brave who fall with many a piercéd breast.

No howitzer is there—no mountain-gun,

But missiles scarce less dire our troops molest;

For thundering down the steep comes many a stone,

Huge, rugged, dealing death, or shattering flesh and bone.

XXVIII.

But Kempt’s brigade its toilsome way hath gained

With Andaluzan comrades up the steep,

And turned the fort’s left flank—’tis scarce attained,

When rush the foemen in disordered heap