XXX.

“But Vengeance comes! Beneath Morena’s shade, At Baylen see on Andaluzan plains Where sinks Dupont by olive-circled glade And deep ravine where blood like water rains, And wears his mighty host dishonouring chains. Castaños, Reding, bright your laurels shine, While prostrate ’neath your arm the Gaul remains; But, ah, perfidious snares your glory mine, And butchery stains the steel which Conquest lit divine,