And one fair girl amid the loud alarm
Slept on her kerchief, cradled on her arm:
While round her brows bright beams of honour dart,
And love’s warm eddies circle round her heart.
—Near and more near the intrepid beauty press’d,
Saw through the driving smoke his dancing crest,
Heard the exulting shout—“They run!—they run!”
“He’s safe!” she cried, “he’s safe! the battle’s won!”
—A ball now hisses through the airy tides,
(Some Fury wings it, and some Demon guides,)