XXXII.

Now free once more our deep intrenchments stood, Save of the heaps of slain and battle’s track, And many a broken blade and pool of blood, Which by to-morrow’s dawn shall find no lack Of zeal to clear, and bring to smoothness back. The dead shall find a soldier’s simple grave, The wounded healing care though pain should rack, With Fame’s requital; and where past the wave Of War, each trench renewed again shall shield the brave.