Tumultuous and undisciplined in war.
Such Rodmond was; by learning unrefined,
That oft enlightens to corrupt the mind.
Boisterous of manners; trained in early youth
To scenes that shame the conscious cheek of truth;
To scenes that nature’s struggling voice control,
And freeze compassion rising in the soul:
Where the grim hell-hounds, prowling round the shore,
With foul intent the stranded bark explore;
Deaf to the voice of woe, her decks they board,