XXI.

See blaze their camp in fires terrific whirled By rising tempest-blasts along the sky; Tent, abatís, redoubt, and breastwork hurled To ruin far and near--below--on high. Red streams the fluttering canvass in the eye Of that autumnal sun--fierce embers flare, And strew the gale--fall blackening timbers nigh; Pyrene’s sides reflect the lurid glare, And myriad crackling sparks are borne upon the air.