III.

“Retire!” was first the cry. “A traitorous foe! Our batteries’ fire is ’gainst the stormers turned;” And struck a straggling shot the ranks below; But Nial and his men the counsel spurned. To win, whate’er the cost, their bosoms burned; And ’mid the fiercest of the cannonade, While San Sebastian for his bulwarks mourned, Within the rampart solid ground they made-- First step in victory’s march, whose laurels ne’er will fade.