V.

Nor one the breach nor one the fierce assault; Three several columns mount the broken wall; ’Mid deadliest havoc each is forced to halt, And rush the living where their brothers fall, Strewn on the crest of that Pyracmon tall; While heaps of slain a slippery footing yield To men whose hearts not _this_ e’en can appal. Still brandish the besieged their fiery shield, Till thicker strew the dead than live possess the field!