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

He spurred his generous charger—at a bound

Crost half the court-yard, learnt the route to bear

Upon the robber’s track, and soon the sound

Of his steed’s hoofs was lost upon the mountain-ground.

XXVII.

Vain his long gallop, vain his bird-like speed,

Vain every turn and venture far and near.

Sad, sad grew Nial’s heart, and ’gan to bleed,

While from his eye fell many a bitter tear.