XII.

Young Nial forward flies with impulse dire-- Of these heroic warriors he the head; They gain the breach--they mount--they shout--they fire, Their shouts are drowned in showers of answering lead; But still unsprung the mines, nor terror fed A valour calm as sleeps the Ocean near. Vain is the assault, and stretched full soon lie dead All who so late upraised that gallant cheer-- All save their leader bold who stalks the trenches near.