I.

The fight was o'er; the flashing through the gloom, Which robes the cannon as he wings a tomb, Had ceased; and sulphury vapours upward driven Had left the Earth, and but polluted Heaven: The rattling roar which rung in every volley Had left the echoes to their melancholy; No more they shrieked their horror, boom for boom; The strife was done, the vanquished had their doom; The mutineers were crushed, dispersed, or ta'en, Or lived to deem the happiest were the slain. 10 Few, few escaped, and these were hunted o'er The isle they loved beyond their native shore. No further home was theirs, it seemed, on earth, Once renegades to that which gave them birth; Tracked like wild beasts, like them they sought the wild, As to a Mother's bosom flies the child; But vainly wolves and lions seek their den, And still more vainly men escape from men.