XXXIII.

Through misty veil that crowns the topmost crags Doth Nial with his rifles plunge amain; Nor Morton with his light battalion lags. Gaul’s chosen grenadiers Clausel with pain Sees from the mist emerging to the plain. Sharp rings the rifle;--with sonorous roll The musketry less keen replies--in vain! Disordered France retires, and rends the pole Our shout victorious raised--the peak is Glory’s goal!