Which ne’er might be repeated: who would guess
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet, such awful morn could rise.
And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war:
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;